


The Last Guy On Earth

by littlewonder



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlewonder/pseuds/littlewonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apocalyptic AU. When the super volcano in Yellowstone erupts, Lima might not make it out alive, and Kurt has to face the uncertainty of his own life continuing. But when he and Karofsky become sole survivors, he has to face his own feelings and regrets about their relationship. Set before Karofsky left McKinley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dark Skies Ahead

We have been wandering for years without sight of anyone in a dark and poisonous landscape, thunderous and unforgiving. The ash came down like snow, suffocating and blinding even under their masks. There was the dark mouth of a cave visible in the expansive wasteland. They had wandered far from the light of society now, and there was no going back.

There was absolutely no way of knowing if we were really the only two people left on earth. We were the sole survivors here, as far as I was concerned.

Karofsky’s troubles against the student body meant nothing now. A week before, the warnings spread through the area, yet somehow he had still arrived at McKinley. I guess survival meant more to him than shame.

My last words to him still rung through my head as the emergency assembly commenced in McKinley Hall. “Not if you were the last guy on earth!” I felt guilty for them, but I couldn’t allow myself to be. I had meant them as much then as I did now. I stood by those words.

“We have just received warning that a major natural disaster has occurred,” announced Figgins at last. “This not only affects the country, it is likely to spread across the globe.” There was a loud outburst of talking at that mention, and it felt like a wall of sound in all directions.

“Until further notice, no one is allowed to leave school grounds,” Figgins continued over them once control was regained, and the crowd moaned loudly. I heard Puck swear. “However,” Figgins spoke over them, “all the rest of the classes for the rest of the day have been cancelled.” At this, most students settled down.

“Until the rest of the staff can set up the school for a long stay in, you are all to remain in this room.”

I thought back to 9/11. Everyone had seemed to know about it the day after it had happened, very few were out of the loop. The ones who had were those who avoided the news altogether. And I knew it was different now; I had heard people talk for days, and I could see it on everyone’s faces now.

Not one seemed self-assured. Not even Karofsky.

“Let me assure you that we are prepared for this. We have been stocking up on supplies and will also be holding citizens of Lima right in this very school, so I ask you to be on your best behaviour.” 

And I knew they weren’t the only ones. Dad and I had been at the supermarket recently to stock up on supplies. It had been a madhouse. We had gotten separated on three different occasions.

"I leave you now with Coaches Sylvester and Beiste.” A moan escaped the collective of students. As if this was all routine.

I heard them talk about it then. How strange this all was. At first, I said nothing. But when they dragged me into the conversation, I decided to part with a piece of advice.

“Don’t let yourself exaggerate your own emotions. You may surprise yourself.”

For the first few minutes, the coaches had to prevent people from sneaking out, and to keep control, before each talking about what would happen now and how long we’d all be stuck here. The answer was, not as soon as you think.

Beiste also mentioned that our parents would probably be coming here, otherwise they would all be gathered in the local church; only so many parents would fit inside the school.

My Dad would definitely need to be with me. I felt the same. And he and I long ago agreed that we were not part of the church community, just the same as we agreed not to change each other.

I wondered if Dad was here yet. I decided to call him.

“I’m in the school's office. How are you holding up? Because I brought everything with me, food included. You should be able to outlast some of the other kids, at least.”

"It's getting closer, Dad."

“I know, Kurt, I know. But me and Carole are both here for you boys, you can rely on that.” For a moment, he didn’t speak. “We’re gonna get through this –“

“I’m scared, Dad. I'm never gonna make it to 21. I'll never get out of Lima.”

By this point, everyone within earshot of me was listening, including glee club. I ignored them.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Kurt. I’m just being held back here until they tell me I can see you, but we’re going to get through this together.”

“Dad, there is no getting through this! We’re all going to die! Super volcanoes are extinction threats. Hardly anyone in the whole world will survive, let alone us.”

“Now, you stop this, Kurt,” Dad said. “I will admit I don’t know how long we are going to stay alive during this, but I do know it won’t be very long if you keep acting like this. We just have to stick together and try to survive as long as we can. Got it?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said, giving in, knowing he had a point and trying to calm down. I took a deep breath.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, right, Kurt?”

“Right, Dad. See you later.”

“See you later, son.” And I hung up.

Mercedes had an inquisitive look on her face, but broke it a moment later as she looked around and told everyone to mind their own business. She turned back to me and whispered, “Are you okay? What happened, Kurt?”

She didn’t seem to mind the other members of glee listening in as I told her.

We were ushered upstairs, where we were grouped and moved into limitless classrooms. The normally clear windows were nearly black with descending ash. For an instant, I hope my dad would be okay out there. But then I remember our call, and breathed a sigh of relief.

I got roomed with about half of our club. Amongst others in the room were some of the jocks, some of the AV club, and a couple of cheerleaders.

I settled myself along one wall with Artie, Tina, Mike Chang, and Mercedes. Finn and Puck were in the room too, but they felt like they would rather hang out with the jocks. Artie asked why Mike wanted to hang out with us, and he told us he felt more comfortable with glee than football.

We were lucky enough to be in one of the rooms that Schue was supervising. He said a special hello to those of us in glee, and went ahead and briefed us on how things would work while we were staying here.

Puck asked when we could leave. Schue didn't know, telling the room that nothing was decided amongst the school just yet.

Finn asked what would happen to everyone’s stuff back at home. 

Mike said, "You mean you didn't stock up anything at home to bring?" They had had plenty of days’ warning since the eruption began.

There wasn’t much that could be done. The clumsier jock was left with a questioning look still plastered on his face. 

Luckily, I told Finn we had prepared. I relayed to him what Dad had told me.

Karofsky asked why everyone in the school wasn’t just being air lifted out of Lima. It wasn’t really much of a possibility, due to volcanic ash clogging transport and crowding overloading what the state could cover, anyway.

When nobody else had any more questions, Schue went next door the brief the next room. Our room fell into silence. I heard Rachel’s voice.

I wasn’t listening for very long when Karofsky’s obnoxious voice drowned them out. “Well, this is stupid,” he said. “Sharing a room with a bunch of nerds and the stupid, gay glee club.”

“Hey, lay off, Karofsky! You know, we’re not thrilled to be stuck with you, either!” Mercedes retorted, and I inwardly cheered her on.

“Yeah. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all in serious danger here,” added Finn. “If we had a choice, we would sure rather be somewhere else.”

“What danger? All I’ve been able tell of the danger so far is that queer noise over an hour ago.”

“Are you really that thick?” I demanded, suddenly standing up and confronting him from across the room. I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to be anywhere near him since he kissed me, but I had completely forgotten that in my rage.

“Excuse me, Hummel?” he retorted, taking a step closer. I took a step back. “That’s what I thought,” he said. He began to turn away.

“Can you really blame me?” I asked, inexplicably, loud and clear. “After last time?”

Karofsky looked back at me, and for a moment I thought I saw fear there, but it was gone so quickly that I might have imagined it. I watched him determinedly, preparing myself for what might come next.

“Wait, what happened last time?” said Finn, confused.

I shot a look at Karofsky. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”

“No! No way, you are not going to do that! Not unless you want to live!” he shouted threateningly at me, taking two more steps forward.

“Oh, don’t you go around threatening my boy,” interjected Mercedes, storming forward.

Then Artie looked at me and said, “What did happen, Kurt?”

“Yeah,” added Puck from a corner of the room, stepping into the fray.

I knew he really was just curious about what happened, more than any real concern he could’ve held for me. Though why he even bothered saying anything, I couldn’t tell you, since he didn’t really add anything.

"Nothing," I said stiffly, looking at Karofsky dead in the eye and knowing I couldn’t tell them even if I wanted to. "It's between me and Karofsky."

"Kurt, if he did something to you," appealed Mercedes, but I cut her off, "He didn't hurt me."

“Geez, Kurt, what did he do?” Puck demanded, stepping forward again.

I shifted my gaze to glare at Puck for a moment, and then turned my head to Mercedes, dropping the face. “He just…” I glared at Karofsky, daring him to say something. “…backed me into a corner.”

“Did he threaten you?” asked Finn.

I didn’t look at my brother as I attempted to answer, just kept my gaze locked on Karofsky, waiting. “You might say that.”

“No way,” Karofsky automatically denied it. “That’s garbage. You just freak out way too easy.”

“Then what did you do?” dared Finn.

“Nothing! He’s overreacting!”

“Then why are you so freaked out?” provoked Puck.

“I’m not!” cried Karofsky. “So I threatened him. Since when is that anything new?”

“It’s not. You denying it is. Could you be actually growing a conscience?”

“No freaking way. You’re all just acting like a bunch of girls!”

I looked back at Mercedes again, who was watching me with a sympathetic look on her face. She opened her mouth to speak again, but instead she just leaned forward with a hug. 

I hugged her back appreciatively. "Don't worry, Kurt, I got your back. But you're telling me if he goes too far."

When she pulled back, I told her, “Promise. But really, I’m fine, Mercedes.”


	2. Facing Karofsky

I saw Karofsky staring point-blank at me now. He had an odd expression, like a suspicious father or a jealous child. I stared back for a moment, trying to glare but wavering under his gaze. I turned away.

The moment had passed by the time Dad came in to visit, along with Carole. As she went off with Finn, Kurt hugged his father, feeling not quite so odd in front of the entire room with a few other parents coming to see their children.

“How you holding up, Kurt?” he asked me.

“I’m fine, Dad,” I told him. I gave him a smile to prove it.

“That’s good to know. Look, here’s the low-down: us parents are going to put us up in the gym. But look, stick with your friends, alright Kurt? I don’t want you to ever stop fighting, okay? If I eventually die –“

“Dad, don’t say that!”

“Let me finish. If I eventually die and you’re left alive, I want you to fight on. Don’t ever give up on life, Kurt, no matter how tough things get.”

“I don’t want you to die, Dad. It was bad enough losing mom.”

“I know, son, I know. I’ll stick as close to you as I can, alright? We gotta stick together, Kurt. If things get hard, I’ll try my hardest to be there. And I know I promised you, Kurt, but I might not always be.”

I nodded, too choked up right now to speak. “Yeah,” I whispered.

“Good boy,” he said, smoothing the back of my hair. “Let’s sit down somewhere.”

He looked around behind me, and his expression dropped when he didn’t spot a chair. He looked down on me. “That’s okay, I can stand up; you sit down.” He looked around at the sleeping bags. “Which one’s yours?”

I led him to my sleeping bag and sat down on it. He crouched down and presented in front of me a bag he was carrying. He zipped it open. “Now, I know how you are about your fashion, so I brought some of the clothes you packed to keep with you the first few nights. I'm told they'll be keeping your suitcase somewhere, so this is just day-to-day. Everything else will be with me just for tonight.”

Thankful to my Dad, I accepted the saddlebag; one of my Dad's old sports ones. That was his idea, but it turned out it was Carole who'd planned ahead. I had never been so glad to have her for a stepmother.

My Dad had no fashion sense. With this array, I would have to get creative. But it was better than nothing. I thanked him.

“No worries, Kurt. Happy to help you out.”

I put the bag down for a moment and hugged it to my chest. “So how was it out there?” I asked him.

“Terrible. At first, it just looked hazy, like a pale yellow, but it started to go pretty grey as I was arriving.”

“Wow,” I said. “It doesn’t seem so dark in here.”

“That’s probably because they have the lights on. I noticed that the minute I stepped in here. Everything’s lit up.”

I shot a glance at Karofsky, just to catch him looking away. When I looked back at Dad, he was just turning back to me; he must have noticed me looking at Karofsky. “That guy have a problem with you?” asked Dad.

"It's not a big deal, Dad."

Dad turned back to me. “Do you want me to see about sending him to another room?” he asked me.

“No, Dad, don’t bother,” I sighed. “I’ll be fine. They’d probably just replace him with some other Neanderthal.”

“Well okay, if you’re sure…”

“Hey, Kurt, this your Dad?” Artie came into the conversation now.

I looked around, and Mercedes and Tina were trying to join in, too. I smiled and introduced them.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Hummel,” said Artie, holding out his hand for a handshake, and Dad took it. “We’ve met,” Tina told him, when Dad turned to her next.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Wait, when was that?” said Artie. 

We told him the story.

The five of us talked for a while after that, until Schue came in and told the room it was time for dinner, and to follow him to the cafeteria. We were the third group from the back to leave the room.

“Amazing how quickly time flies,” said Dad. “It feels like it’s only been an hour or so.” I agreed.

“I hope they have plenty to eat, I’m hungry,” commented Mercedes.

“Of course you are,” retorted Artie, and Mercedes gave him a dirty look.

“Well I just wonder how long it’ll last. All that ash out there; it said on the radio on the way over that it was already ruining major crops all over.”

“Well, I gotta have my eats or I don’t work,” said Mercedes. 

We found a table, making a space for Artie. Dad offered to get our food, leaving us to talk. 

The conversation soon turned pretty morbid. “I’m not going to survive, you know,” Artie said when the three of us had gathered around the table.

“Oh, Artie, don’t say that!” said Tina.

“Well, its true!” he said, “Look at me, I can’t move around like the rest of you can, I can’t even be seated at a table without special assistance.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re the only one,” I told him. “Besides the fact that Mercedes is probably going to die of starvation in the first few weeks, a lot of us probably won’t survive this. The main thing is to make the most of the time you have left.”

Artie and Tina looked at me. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Kurt,” said Artie. “Still, its hard not to think about.”

“Yeah…” said Tina thoughtfully, a suddenly troubled expression on her face.

When Dad and Mercedes came back, Mercedes complaining about the food, she asked, “So, what are you guys talking about?” as she sat down.

“Which one of is gonna pop off first,” said Artie.

“Kurt!” said Dad, “Didn’t I tell you that we were going to get through this together?”

“Come on, Dad, we can’t just pretend that we can all survive,” I said. “Some of us are going to die.”

“I have a bet that I’ll be first,” said Artie. “Though, not that it’ll matter, since I’ll be dead –“

“Kurt, there is a line between worrying about the future and making insensitive bets!’

“Well, its not my fault, Dad, it wasn’t even my idea!” I retorted. “It was Artie who even brought it up.”

Dad turned to Artie. “Look, you’re my son’s friends. You all are,” he looked around at Mercedes and Tina as he said this, before turning back to Artie. “I need you take care of him if I die. And I can’t trust that it’ll happen if you are putting negative images in his head. You got me?”

“Yes, sir,” Artie nodded now with a gulp.

“Good,” said Dad, lightening up. “Now let’s eat.”

We didn’t talk about that subject again, but when we returned to our new common room, Dad had been forced to go back to the gym.

“Hey, Kurt, your Dad’s tough,” said Artie as we entered. 

“I know, that’s just how he is,” I smiled wistfully.

“Kind of like you,” added Tina.

I smiled at her. “Thanks, Tina.”

The four of us settled by our sleeping beds, side by side each other. I was between Mercedes and Tina, and Artie was to Tina’s left. I later noticed that Mike Chang was sleeping nearby, too.

Finn was in front of me, in the next row away from the walls. Puck was a few beds down along from him, which I did not find comforting in the least. What I did find comforting, though, was that at least that Neanderthal, Karofsky, was across the other side of the room from me. But I did suddenly realise how uncomfortable I felt that he now slept in the same room as me.

I suppose it made me appreciate for once just how Finn must have felt when we were sharing a room back when he and Carole briefly moved in with us.

After Schue came by for lights out, I leaned over towards Finn and whispered across to him. Finn, who was already lying down, had to crane his neck up to me, and if it wasn’t almost pitch black, I might have dreamed he was smiling.

“Yeah, Kurt?”

“When you and your mom were moving in with us, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was out of line.”

“Thanks, Kurt.”

“No problem,” I said.

I lay back in my sleeping bed, and it felt wrong to be so low to the ground, with hardly a layer of cloth between it and me, but I closed my eyes anyway and tried to go to sleep.

The next day, I saw the sky for the first time. It was morning, but it looked like night.

The next few weeks passed in a haze. In the end, Artie was right. But it wasn’t long before Mercedes began wasting away, even compared to him. I watched everyone around me go through the motions. I knew this was going to be the new way of life. Soon, more than a month had passed.

Sometimes, Mercedes joked that at least she was finally losing the weight. She was my best friend, and I was losing her. Tragically, I believed Artie wouldn’t too long lose his bet.

Dad wasn’t holding up too well himself. Between his heart problem and the lack of food available, I wondered whether he wouldn’t survive, after all.

But he was still here for me. He loved me, maybe too much. And I had no intention of letting him down.

Even Karofsky looked thinner. Even so, he wasn’t as thin as he should be. 

Even I was feeling a little light. At least Sue would be happy I’d lost those so-called pear hips.

“What the hell are you up to?” I demanded as I marched up to Karofsky one day.

“Excuse me?”

“What are you doing that the rest of us aren’t? You don’t look hungry like the rest of us,” I said.

"So?" said Karofsky. "Just because I'm better at surviving than you, doesn't mean a thing. Do you really expect you'll survive? With your fancy clothes and your stuck-up pride… Don't blame me just because I'm suddenly better than you."

I wanted to scream. Of course Karofsky wasn't better than me! He never was, and he never would be. He was just a scared little boy who kept secrets and lied to himself. At least I knew who I was.

"You will never be better than me, Karofsky," I said. "How long do you think this will last, anyway? This food's gonna run out eventually. Then what do you think's gonna happen?"

"At least I'll have a head start on you. Look at you, Hummel; you're wasting away. In emergencies like this, you gotta eat as much now as you can; it'll keep you alive longer. But you wouldn't know that, would you, Hummel? You're just a girl with a bad body image." And he stormed past me.

I stood frozen to the spot, left in his wake. I watched in awe after that, suspicious, curious about him, trying to find out his secret. 

And I was right. He'd been stealing food from the weaker kids. They were dying because of it. 

“You can’t just go around stealing food! You’re killing people, you know. Besides, what will happen when you run out of food to take? Or when everyone else you’re stealing from is dead?”

“Survival's a bitch,” said Karofsky. “I'll do whatever it takes.”

“At least I won’t have other people’s deaths on my conscience.”

"Well, I'm sure that will be a good consolation when you're dead," said Karofsky.

Glowering, I walked away to tell the others. Mercedes was furious, and stormed off to tell Schue.

The next day, I saw him and Figgins arguing. I saw Karofsky glare at me; he knew I had told them.

Karofsky spent a while after that tormenting me, following me around, determined to make me uncomfortable, make me regret saying anything. He brought it home with a macho strut and a determined poker face.

“Didn’t take you for the dobbing type,” he said. “You know you'll regret this.”

“I’m not the dobbing type.” 

He raised his fist. “Don’t start,” he warned.

“You gonna hit me?” I said. “Or were you thinking in the other direction?”

“I’m warning you, Hummel!” he yelled.

I paused. Last time I found myself in this position, I had my first kiss stolen from me. And even if this time he only hit me, I couldn’t take the risk that he might steal my second chance. I knew then that I was trapped.

“Fine,” I said. “You want to live in denial, fine. Have it your way.” And I hoped that would be enough to make him leave. He lingered for a moment, glaring into my face. I could see his features shift, suddenly weak and indecisive. Then he left.


	3. Descent

Months passed. The temperature got quickly colder. Ohio was no stranger to snow, even in spring, but even so, the temperature was dropping quickly, and it was getting increasingly hard to stay warm.

By now, we were all well educated about the super volcano in Yellowstone. We often watched increasingly static-y news updates; all the time reporting reduced populations, particularly bad spots across America. There was no longer a co-anchor; she must have died or gotten sick. Not surprising, considering her ghosting complexion even before the disaster, that ashen skin and those bony cheeks.

Schue looked more worried every day. His boyish looks were starting to wear away now, stress lines covering his face. He never looked too happy anymore. It was a cruel reminder of these dark times, in every sense.

A few times I glanced the scene happening outside. Ashen snow; it had become a wasteland out there. Dirty and cold, white and sick.

It was a small town, low priority. Sometimes I dreamed of escaping to the other, bigger towns; towns like New York. But I knew I’d never make it that far.

A lot of kids weren’t that smart, though, and tried to sneak out. Not that I could blame them. We were undoubtedly one of the very many small towns destined to eventually die out.

Nights in our common room were warm enough with the sleeping bags most of the time, but thoughts were swam in my head as I lay in the dark, keeping me up. The impending desperation of my impending death haunted my mind, the darkness pressing in around me.

I conceived of my friends dying off, and my father, and I squeezed my eyes shut and cried to myself, tears occasionally escaping as I hugged my pillow miserably.

Sometimes I allowed myself to sob out loud, but not until it was late and no one else was awake. I preferred it that way, so no one could know.

But someone did know, though not to my knowledge. He lay there and listened to me silently at night, not saying a word. That said something in and of itself: since knowing him, I would’ve expected him to torture me for it.

But I suppose he had his own demons to fight. Not even David Karofsky could blame me for it anymore.

Ever since Karofsky kissed me, I’ve seen him in an entirely different way. Not in an, ‘oh my god, he’s gay,’ sort of way, more of the kind of way that one thinks of an bad affair.

Every fight, every push has taken on a new dimension anyway, like a secret lover’s quarrel. It was one kiss, but just knowing what it proved he felt, it made everything different.

Finally, something broke. “Yeah, this from someone who cries in bed at night,” he retorted after a particularly nasty.

That revelation freaked me out, even while it impressed me; but I figured that after I protected his precious secret, it’s as much as he owed me.

Still, David Karofsky was never one to deliver people what they deserved, not after all of those slushy facials. The retort still stung, made me insecure.

Again, he reminded me of what Dad told me; it made me remember what he said to Artie, too, about taking care of me when he was gone that first night. Suddenly, I imagined all of my friends dead. But I was damned if I was gonna let someone like Karofsky become my support system, even if it did turn out like that.

My nightly cries got worse, bad enough to start waking my friends at night. “Oh, there, there, Kurt, it’ll be alright,” Tina patted my back when she noticed one night.

I could vaguely hear some sarcastic imitation across the room, and knew it was coming from Karofsky. “Shut up, Karofsky,” Tina spoke softly for me. I tried to stop crying, be less helpless than this.

I was stronger than this. I had to be.

“Don’t worry about me, Tina, I’m fine,” I eventually managed to say.

“You don’t sound fine,” she said. I only rolled over. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Kurt?”

“I’m fine,” I repeated, and that was the end of it. After a few seconds, she let go and rolled back into her own bed. “Tomorrow, you’re talking to me about this, right?” she muttered.

I muttered back a non-committal response.

It was mid-afternoon the next day when she brought up that particular subject. “Hey, how come Karofsky isn’t giving you hell about last night? I was sure he was going to torture you.”

Why, indeed.

“He already knows,” I said.

“He knows?” she repeated. “That’s weird, then,” she replied.

Tina herself was starting to look a bit faded out and pale. It might have had half to do with the fact that she had stopped wearing makeup, and half to do with the fact that she simply wasn’t getting enough to eat, just like the rest of us.

Well, most of us.

I wasn’t surprised when eventually Dad had already had another heart attack and Mercedes looked as bad as a diabetic patient, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel my heart split in two when I looked at them. 

And Karofsky was actually starting to look good, now that he thin everywhere. But he would always be the same jerk. Azimio just looked like a retarded Jay-Z.

Artie was morose and feeble, Tina felt light-headed, Quinn looked anorexic, Rachel a wreck, and Finn and Puck were losing muscle rapidly.

The death count racked up: Dad, Mercedes, Artie, Quinn, Rachel, Brittany and Santana, and Tina.

The common room seemed so empty now. Mike was still around, and so were Finn and Puck. I was thankful that I still had my step-brother.

As people in the school died, more food became available. The one downside to all of this was that my support system was almost non-existent now. There was Finn, but even he couldn’t be around all the time. Mike was my last vague friend, and even he didn't care about much anymore, let alone me.

I felt alone in our common room, two beds down from Mike. Mercedes’ old bed was empty between Mike and me; tears came to my eyes just thinking about her, reaching out my hand to the edge of the fabric. 

Finn took the bag next to me on the left, Puck next to him. Finn and I sometimes talked at night, but Puck had a tendency to join in, so I could never said anything I didn’t want him to hear.

Testosterone-fuelled fights were now a regular thing. With all the tension over who would survive and how, the jocks were starting to go crazy. It was a constant battle from the teachers to keep them in control, but they never were much good at that in their weakened state, as well as the fact that they never had cared before.

The bullying was worse than it ever was. Being pushed into lockers just wasn’t enough anymore. Now it was joined by a swift punch to the gut or a repeat performance or five. And those were just the routine attacks.

Karofsky was the exception to the rule, at least as far as I was concerned. Worst I got from him was an intentional knock of the shoulders. That, like many of his actions, went unnoticed in the chaos though; only I noticed.

He seemed uncomfortable in his own skin. But there were others he took it out on. He was irritable; vulnerable; moody. He looked damn scared, sometimes, like he knew he was about to die.

I watched him constantly. I felt bad for him, even if it’d never entirely erase the stain of how I thought of who he was. I’d never forget what he’d done to me in the past, or what he might still do.

He caught me staring once or twice. He glared so hard into me that I could no longer stare into his burning green eyes.

Finally, he demanded to know what I was staring at.

“You,” I stalled, searching for an answer to that question. “You looking scared. You look terrible, Karofsky.”

“Yeah?” he grabbed my shirt; it was underwhelming. “Well, I’m not the one who cries at night.”

“That no longer works on me, Karofsky. I’m not ashamed of who I am.”

“Maybe I’d better make you my punching bag!”

“Why did you ever stop?” I asked. “Why suddenly be the good guy?”

“Because,” he said, then snarled. “It’s not gonna make much difference now, is it? We’re all going to die in the end; don’t you get it? Look around you. The school’s getting empty, and the food won’t hold out much longer. We’re all gonna starve. And I’m gonna die a virgin.”

Karofsky paused looking suddenly scared, searching around desperately. Then he leaned in close to Kurt. 

He seemed to struggle for a moment, holding back, pressing his lips together tightly. “You’re the only one that might get it. This whole…thing, about being…”

“Gay?”

He looked angry. “I’m not gay.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

He screwed up his face. “Isn’t it possible I could be…” He grunted. Pause. He grunted again. “I could like…well—“

“Both?” I said.

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t it possible you don’t know what you want? It sounds to me like you’re still making excuses for yourself. Sure, its possible you could be bisexual,” I said, and he grimaced. “But I doubt it.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that? I’ve been with girls before.”

“I don’t wanna know how you are with girls. I don’t want to know about your love life. But I do know that if you really have to think about it, you’re only lying to yourself.”

He pushed away from me angrily. “Fine. You think I’m… you know, go ahead. But there has to be more to it than that.”

“There’s not,” I said. “And I think I know more about it than you, I’m the one who’s out—“

“Yeah, and you’re the most flaming person I’ve ever met. I can’t look at you without being blinded by images of glitter or by some loud outfit.”

“There is nothing wrong with the clothes I wear!”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Karofsky, backing down the hall with his hands up in mock surrender, “because the fact remains that you don’t know hell of what I deal with, do you?” His expression was sober. “It figures…”

He backed off.

And I couldn’t just leave well enough alone. I pushed myself up to stand defiantly in the middle of the hall. “It figures?” I cried. “Oh no, you do not get to say that to me! I am the one who has to constantly deal with you and everyone else every day! You are not going to start playing the victim on me!”

He turned back around. “Oh yeah?” he said. “You think you’re special, right? You’re not. What I do to you, that’s nothing. Not compared to everything you have. Maybe I’m just trying even the score, you ever think of that?”

And I watched him with those words echoing in my head, wondering if it were true, even after he had turned the corner and left me staring after him.

I turned away finally, looking at the ground and sinking back against the locker. Was he right? Or was he just making excuses?

In the end, I was forced to lift my head and focus. And suddenly it occurred to me, without even guessing the answer; could he be jealous of me?

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that he was just scared and confused and convinced that everyone was against him. And he had good reason, especially since the one kid around here who might get it was his personal target and enemy.

And I wouldn’t trust me if I were him, either. I may have kept his secret, but its obvious I hate him too. I was much more inclined towards Blaine than him… (Blaine. I wonder if he’s still alive. He ought to be, that Dalton Academy is ridiculously well stocked with food.) I walked away haughtily. It was all I could do to retain myself for my part in this new dangerous world.


	4. Enough

I had lost everyone now; Mike, Finn, even Puck was no longer around to make fun of me. Glee was dead, my old fear, though not so literally. But now my own death was my biggest fear, far worse than any failed dreams past.

Our school population had shrunk by mass amounts. We had twice as much room to move around the school, and twice as much grief.

No more Beiste; no more Schue. The school was reaching a low population, a concept that once seemed so textbook and so marginal, and now was so real. They all died, eventually.

And I was somehow still here.

So was Karofsky. What are the odds; what had we done right? Wasn’t he the same one I predicted to grow bald by thirty? Wasn’t he the one I had written off as a loser?

It was a rare sight to see a crowd in the halls these days. There were still people I didn’t know, people like me that had managed to hold on. At least that made more sense to me, something rational to hold on to.

Azimio was dead, no surprise to any except Karofsky, the one who found him. Ms Pillsbury, Figgins, Sam Evans were all long dead. But not Karofsky. Of all the people to be stuck with, of all the people not dead or dying, and its Karofsky.

It didn’t matter, we were still alive, and I was still alive like Dad wanted.

Ever since Azimio’s death, Karofsky wasn’t the same. He had both lost his confidence and his inhibitions. He kept giving me this foreign, soft look, a look of longing. I could feel he meant it. I could tell he was wretched and desperate, but never had it been so obvious.

When we passed in the hollow corridors, his eyes lingered on me as long as they could before looking ahead again. I noticed this because I started doing the same thing myself, curious.

I started noticing things about him, those murky green eyes; a tortured expression; the unhindered way he stared. And I never reacted. Although inwardly emotions raged, outwardly I was numb.

“Wait.”

Exasperatedly, I closed my eyes. I had intended to just ignore him, but clearly he had no intention of doing that. I spun on my heel and looked up at him, glaring, waiting.

“This is pathetic,” he ground out at me. He moved closer to me, backing me into the lockers, hovering over me. “I need you. Please…”

“You’re just desperate,” I breathed, lucky to get the words out. “You wouldn’t...if you had…anyone else left… You only like me because you know I’m gay.”

“Does it matter?” he said, face still close.

I pushed our chests apart, trying to escape. “Yes, it does,” I insisted forcefully. I tried to back up further, but he brought me back. I breathed.

“It matters a lot,” I huffed. “You may not realise, but I can’t give my heart away to just anyone. Especially not one who bullied me for so long. I could never...”

He looked back, disappointed. No, more than that. Heartbroken. Was he that attached to me? No, of course not, he couldn’t be… he hated me too, I knew that. Then again, I never thought he could be gay either, but he was. Anything was possible then, right?

No, it was completely different. Being gay and being equalised, even in love were two completely different things. And the very idea of that being the case was mind-boggling. Still, could I change him, even if he was?

I hesitated a moment, not knowing what to think. I felt him shift against me, and I took the opportunity to wriggle loose from him. “I will never love you, Karofsky. If I ever forgive you, that’s one thing. But I’ll never want this.”

“You will,” said Karofsky, “if you get desperate enough.”

I made a face, feeling disgusted, and disagreeing to the highest standard. And he left me that thought, left me to wonder if he really expected to just watch me crumble. If he really was desperate enough to hope something like that.

He tried to do me favours now and then, though they were worthless on the grand scale. Trivial, though no less kind, they didn’t endear him to me, or even the score.

Yet he acted like he was doing the world for me. I knew there was nothing there; he was just trying to prove himself for the sake of it, to get what he wanted.

He was big, abrasive, and violent…and he was attracted to me, of all people. And he was trying, he really was. But I just couldn’t see myself ever wanting to be with someone like that.

Deep down, he couldn’t feel as strongly for me as I needed him to, and vice versa. Not even if he turned out to be the last guy on earth.

He wasn’t, I knew that. But he was one of the few left I knew.

And then one day he asks if he’s doing enough. I’m not afraid of him, but I didn’t want to tell him the truth; I knew how he’d react. But there would be no point in lying.

“What the hell!” he cried, flipping over a chair.

I looked at him levelly. I kept my cool. “Have you forgotten the hell you put me through?” I asked him. “It wasn’t just physical; it was humiliating. It was cruel. A few good deeds aren’t going to make up for any of it. Have you got any idea what it feels like to be slushied, or sent crashing against a locker?”

He smashed a fist into the desk. “Don’t be such a baby, I've gotten worse than that, guys have tried to punch me out! Do I look like the sort who I let other people push around?”

He looked at me determinedly. His eyebrow twitched.

“Not right now,” I said.

He looked at me, dumbfounded. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe you’re not the type now,” I said. “But maybe you were once. When you weren’t so formidable.”

He pulled his eyebrows together. “What the fuck do you know about my life? Fucking nothing, that’s what! You and all those other losers, you don’t know a damned thing about me, do you? So why should I care about you? Screw it…”

“You know, you’re not exactly winning me over right now.”

“It’s because you’re impossible! Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”

“I want you to move on.”

“Forget it, Hummel, that’s not going to happen.”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to help you out here when I don’t even want this in the first place. But I might’ve cared once if you had never started bullying me.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he told me. “Don’t say things you don’t mean just to be noble, because its all just a damn lie, isn’t it? You, of all people, are the most judgemental; you look your nose down at everyone. And that’s probably to make yourself feel good about being gay, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, as well as everyone else in the whole damned world, are, more than you’d like to admit. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?” said Karofsky.

“Is that what you did? ‘Joined ‘em’?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I did. What’s your story?”

I decided not to dignify that with a response. Instead, I said, “So you became a bully, because nobody forgets bullies, right? One thing you didn’t count on, though; it’s the wrong sort of memory. Why be hated?”

“It’s better than forgotten,” he said darkly. “Why should I even live if I’ll just be forgotten? I’m already a freak.”

“So why are you so determined to survive this, then?” I asked.

“If I survive the apocalypse, no way I’ll be a loser. I’ll be a survivor, better than any one of them. Smarter, tougher! I’ll be better…”

“And that’s enough for you?” I looked into his face, considering him. “And the ones that aren’t better? Pushing them over the edge because there’s no one around to stop you now? You haven’t changed –“

“Look, I had to work long and hard to build myself up to the man I became. It was an awkward phase.”

“So you’d rather be the bully?”

“It was either them or me. How else was I supposed to get through school when I paid attention in classes and had no friends, hell, no respect!” he cried. “That’s why I joined the hockey team. Being a jock is the quick way to popularity, and hockey was the only one I could get into back then.”

“Well, while you were cheating your way into being liked, the rest of us were suffering. No less when you started throwing people into lockers yourself, and throwing slushies into people’s faces.”

“Well, what the hell is it that you want from me? I can’t do anything about it now,” said Karofsky.

“No, indeed you can’t,” I drawled, looking away with a lifted eyebrow. “Or I would probably be more forgiving about it.”

“Well then, what is your problem?” he cried at me.

“My problem is you, Karofsky. I don’t like you,” I emphasised the words in hopes the words might get through that thick skull.

“Well, why not? Who else have you got left?”

I raised my chin at him. “Well--that doesn’t mean—“

“Oh, shit, Hummel,” he said, rotating his head away and then back at me. “Are you fucking serious? Do you really hate me that much, or are you just too proud to give it up? Because if this is the end of the world, this is your last chance to let someone in.”

“That’s not what this is. I’m not gonna let you in, if that’s what you’re implying. You don’t have to tell me to let people in; it just won’t be you. So don’t waste your time, I don’t plan on giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

That didn’t stop Karofsky from trying. I suppose it was gestures like stealing food for me that he intended to prove something, and he did seem insistent upon it.

“Come on, Hummel, just take it. I thought you wanted to live. People are still starving, so the more you eat, the better chance you have.”

“By that logic, we could stuff our faces and live forever,” I retorted, only trying to spite him for the sake of it.

He smiled crookedly at me, but I could see it was genuine. And for a moment, I forgot that I hated him, and my heart brightened for him. I smiled back.

I think that was the first moment I started to like him. It was a bizarre moment, the most bizarre I think I’ve ever faced, even compared to when Yellowstone erupted. I liked David Karofsky.

We began talking. My heart was still closed to him, but he was right; I needed someone to rely on. Even if it was him. I flinched when he even reached his hand across the table and placed it over mine. But I didn’t move it away; even smiled coyly. 

I must’ve been insane.

Besides, I might just hate him again tomorrow, angry with myself for allowing myself to give in too easily. I thought of the world out there and wondered if it was the reason I was doing this.

No. I didn't think that was it. I was making excuses; I didn't give a damn about that. No, the real reason was that I needed someone, and Dave was there. I knew this wouldn’t last, but one day I’d need to take the weight off my shoulders, would need to be able to smile and chat like friends with someone.

“There’s something unsettling about all this,” I admitted, when I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I’ll tell you what’s unsettling,” he told me. “It’s the end of the world, and the only person left in the world for me is the guy who hates me, the guy who I’ve always…” he paused. He swore.

“What?”

He looked at me, only slightly calmer. “Liked,” he ground out.

I looked into his jolted shy eyes. 

“And let me guess, you still hate me?” There was something tentative, submissive about his voice and his expression when he said that.

“To a point.”

He looked at me in surprise. “A point?”

“I still hate you, its hard not to. But I can’t help… Yesterday was nice. I liked you well enough then,” I conceded.

I could see the way that fired him up; hope filled his eyes, an expression like he had won something. My chest tingled, my face flushed. ‘Don’t give in.’

“Liked?” he said, smirking. “Don’t play coy with me, Hummel, I can see you want me now.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You just blow everything out of proportion; that’s not what I meant. I simply meant,” I said, “was that for once, you started seeming human. That’s a change.”

“So I am changing for you,” he grinned, insistent.

“I stand by what I said before. I could not in good conscience…like you back the same way.”

“That so?” he said with an arched eyebrow. “Seems to me you’ve already started.”

I didn’t know how long that would last. I just couldn’t see it enduring; it could really only be a matter of time before it began deteriorating. And when it did, I would just feel like dirt. “It’s already gone. It didn’t last,” I said.

“That’s not how it works. You don’t get to choose when its over. Emotions are fleeting anyway, its actions that make the difference. Your actions proved your own taste, Hummel. Don’t you dare try to pretend you didn’t. Sooner or later, you’ll come back around.”

And just like that, he left me feeling dirty anyway, disgusted with myself.

But all the while people were still dying, only now less frequently. We were far from the last people left on earth. But we were two of the last in Lima.


	5. Braving the Wasteland

It was hard to resist the dark hole of whether we might survive or not. It would be years from now before this apocalyptic ash stopped falling. As much as I hated myself for it, though, Karofsky was one of my few distractions. 

“I’m not that bad, you know,” he insisted.

“Oh, no,” I said. “No way are you going to pull me into that trap. You are not gonna trick me into believing you.”

“Is that because you know I’m already right?”

“No way!” I cried. “You are nothing but a confused and sad little boy who doesn’t know how to live his own life. I am not going to let you suck me in, too.”

“Well, if I’m so confused, how can I see what a hypocrite you are?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know what to think of me anymore. You used to think I was a bastard, but now you like me. You are already confused, aren’t you? And who knows where that might take us, but you like me, Hummel. Don’t deny it.”

“Clearly, a mistake,” I said. I certainly didn’t like him very much right now. He was no different than he ever was, and he never would be. Why would I let myself think any different?

“Why?” he demanded, turning me towards him. “Why should I be any different now?”

“You are a real asshole. I tried to make myself think you weren’t, but you really just are. That’s all there is to it,” I answered.

“Don’t give me that crap, Hummel, don’t you dare just brush me aside that way. It’s bullshit!”

“Really? Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you started talking to me like that.”

“Like what? Catching you out?”

“You don’t have a thing on me! As if someone as stupid as you could outwit me! You are a dimwit, Karofsky!”

“Oh yeah, well this dimwit just ran circles around your logic. You think you’re all high and mighty, but really, you’re as bad as me!”

“As bad as you?” I cried. “At least I don’t go around tormenting those less fortunate than I am!”

“You know what I mean! You’re just as confused as I am, and you’re trying to lecture me? Bullshit, Hummel.”

That just made me more furious. “No, I’m not,” I said, evenly defiant. “Because however confused I am, I am nothing compared to you! At least I have some pride. At least I have self-respect! At least I don’t have to resort to infantile tactics to satisfy my own needs!

“What will you do when you’re the last guy on earth, Karofsky? Scrounge and eat and sleep? You can’t get by for long like that before it starts to get to you. How long do you think it will be until you crack? How long until you are no longer the lone survivor?”

He grabbed me, glaring hard into me. “You don’t know shit about me, all right, Hummel? Stop acting like you know me, that you know better than me, or I swear –“

“You’ll what?”

He looked at me a moment. I knew he didn’t have an end to that sentence, just knew it. “You may play a big game of not needing me, but I know you’re lonely, and I’m all you got. So to answer your question, I’ll leave you here. You’ll have no one.”

I was silent for a moment. “I’m not,” I said.

“You are,” he said.

I had no clever retort to that. For several minutes, I just stared at him. He looked pretty self-satisfied. My wall broke down, and hating myself for it, I said in a fragile voice, “Don’t.”

“You have nothing on me,” he said.

“You know what? Maybe you’re right; maybe I don’t know you. But you kissed me once, and I could’ve told. I didn’t. But it proves more than just that you’re gay. It proves that you’re lonely too. You won’t leave me. So just stop.”

He stared at me for a long time after that. At first, he simply stared me down. Then his look softened just a bit. He shifted his gaze suddenly, avoiding mine. “I…” he began. “I have to… I mean, I don’t… I don’t need you. I don’t…”

“Karofsky,” I said, “look at me.” He did. “It’s okay. No one’s here to judge you for it anymore. I won’t.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

“Who ever said that?”

“My Dad. My friends. Everyone who thinks they know me.”

“Thought,” I reminded him. “They’re not here, Karofsky. I am.”

“And you don’t know me any better. You don’t even call me by my first name. We’ve only ever been enemies.”

“David,” I said. “It's okay.”

“Dave,” he corrected me.

“David, you don’t need to be afraid anymore. You can trust me.”

“No, I can’t,” he said feebly. “I can’t trust anybody. It’s all a lie.”

“How do you know it is?” I said. “How do you know I’m lying?”

“Forget it,” he said.

“No really. How?” I pushed him.

“I said, forget it!” he cried, pushing me away. “It’s none of your business!”

“You made it my business when you brought it up!”

“See!” he cried. “You’re just full of it! I can’t trust you, you’re just some nosy, self-righteous bastard!”

“HEY!” I cried. “Don’t you dare turn this on me! Don’t you blame me for your own trust issues! It’s not my fault you have impossibly high standards when it comes to putting your faith into another human being! Because I am right here for you, David. I am here, and here you are, turning me away like you have anyone else waiting for you!”

He glared at me for a moment. Then he softened a little, looking around frantically, before looking back at me. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, what would you suggest?” he said with bite, sure to cover that expression with hostility.

“You need to find something worth living for,” I said, “or else you may lose your own will before you can outlast this.”

“Like what?” he said. I didn’t answer.

I watched him carefully. He didn’t move. Neither did I. “Like…” I began, drifting off to the side, “like being able to embrace who you are,” I said, looking back to him.

Then he growled, throwing his hand down from his face and swore again, loudly. He went back to restlessly pacing the room. Automatically, something clicked, and I wondered what he was thinking as he paced, and what was really behind it.

“What’s the point of that if I’m the last man standing?” he said suddenly.

“I guess you’re not as dumb as you look.”

At that last comment, he actually smiled, and I found myself miraculously returning the gesture just as genuinely. Despite myself, he was actually brightening me up.

“I can protect you,” Karofsky insisted.

“And who’s going to protect you?” I said. “I don’t think we’re close enough for me to rely on you that strongly, anyway.”

“We’re bound to run out of food any day now. It’s getting harder and harder, or hadn’t you noticed that? Besides, there still might be others out there who have survived the way we have.”

“How likely is that?”

“Not hugely,” he said. “But right now, I’m surviving for you. And I know you wish you had someone else to relate to as well.”

“You’re looking for something better.”

“Not better,” he said. “Just different. I had a future once. I was going to grow up in a society that hated me, but I was going to forget. And now I’m facing the very fear I wanted to push down, because now there is no forgetting.”

“You don’t have to push yourself down anymore,” I said. “There’s no one left to hate you for it now. Do you honestly want there to be?”

“But you hate me for something else, don’t you? I made your life hell.”

“Not for much longer, though, if you keep up the path you’re on,” I said, and he turned back to me.

“We’ll still need to leave if we want to survive on something.”

I nodded, pushing my fears down, then remembering knowing Karofsky did the same thing. Still, when you’re on the brink of survival, you have to make sacrifices.

I wondered briefly if that was the same excuse he had used in some comparable form.

Sue was still alive, one of the few adults still running this place. I had to credit her; she was probably the only thing keeping us all sane right now. Between the restlessness of staying inside for all this time and the fight for survival, it was no wonder so many had died, too. But it was her who reined us in.

Right up until then, she had been living off scraps that her survival skills allowed her to find. No one knew how she did it.

Ohio was, according to reports, one of the states now under special circumstances; we were being abandoned to the more populated spots across America.

That was the thing that drove the rest of them over the edge. We often saw armoured trucks on the news, sure, but some thought they might find some out there, passing through Lima. Those kids were never seen again.

They were all lost causes to Sue. She thought if they were all stupid enough to try, they didn’t deserve to live into the new world, where only the fittest earned to start again.

But she was getting weaker, and admitted to me that she was not long for this world. She told me she considered of me one of her own as well as clearly the strongest of her Cheerios, one of the few strong enough to survive this long.

She asked me to hold down the fort. And who was I to refuse her? But I was already thin and pale as it was, and I could use something, anything to refuel me. 

So I went into the kitchen to check the stocks. I had to know if there was still enough to warrant staying here much longer. We were down to scraps. It looked like everyone who remained here were not long for this world either if they stayed.

“What are you doing in here, Hummel?” I spun around, and suddenly Karofsky was there. “No one’s allowed in here. The place is supposed to be locked.”

“Coach Sylvester gave me the key. She put me in charge of the school,” I said.

Karofsky was quiet for a moment. “No one’s going to believe you. They’ll all think you just want power. There’s going to be anarchy.”

“There’s going to be anarchy anyway. We’re out of food.”

“Are you kidding me?” cried Karofsky. “We’re doomed. This is just great.”

“Calm down, Steve Rogers, all is not lost. If there is anarchy, and we’re forced to leave them to fend for themselves, there still may be still leftover food somewhere. Expiry dates can last a long time if you know where to look. We’ll start with your house.”

“Dude, you have no survival skills, do you? How long exactly do you expect any of that to last? You’ll never last out there.”

“Well, like it or not, everything we do now will be a risk. We have a choice. Starve here, or leave to find something else.”

“You just don’t know how to survive out there. Yeah, we have a choice. Yours is gonna get you killed. You know what, dude? I’m coming. I know full well we can’t stay here, either,” said Karofsky.

“What makes you such an expert? You don’t know how to survive a volcanic winter!” 

“I like to watch Man Vs. Wild. That dude will do anything to survive.”

“Oh yeah? Did he ever do an episode about surviving a volcanic ash eruption?” I paused for an answer. Receiving none, I continued, “Besides, watching a show doesn’t mean you're an expert of survival, or that you can repeat the feat.”

“You’ve never seen Man Vs. Wild, have you, Hummel? The things he does isn’t just for nothing, he does it to equip people with the knowledge to survive if they need to.”

“Well, that’s nice, Karofsky, but this isn’t TV. So unless he told you how to find food not contaminated by volcanic ash, it’s not worth much.”

“He once said that you cook food to get rid of the bacteria. Maybe that would work.”

“And if it doesn’t? This is life or death here, Karofsky, its not some game.”

“I doubt it would hurt.”

“And what about the air? You need a gas mask. And have you ever seen the storms here since the eruption? It’s all acid rain and lightning.”

“It’s no different to any other storm. But we don’t have gas masks,” said Karofsky. 

“Have you forgotten about the science classrooms? Come on, what’s the hurt in checking?”

So we travelled along to the classrooms together, hardly able to believe we were considering this. The moment was surreal, walking peacefully with Dave Karofsky, as if it were natural. As if we always did this, as if we were friends.

I started going through cabinets and glass cases while he just stood in the middle of the room.

I eventually had to settle on two white masks, a step up from the loose-edged-fabric flu masks: the classic concave ones with three ridges on the front.

“That’s all we get?” asked Karofsky.

“That’s all there is,” I tell him. “You’re overestimating the threat. This is all we need to breathe regularly.” After a moment, I added, “Don’t tell me the expert is already starting to lose his nerve?”

He glared at me. “Fine,” he said with a defeated look on his face. “But we’re not going to survive for years in Lima. I say if we do this, we go all out. We need to go to New York.” He seemed unsure, but determined.

“No travelling like Nomads, then?” I joked. He just pierced me with a look. I wiped the awkward smile from my face.

He looked back at me. “You’re a frickin’ genius, Hummel,” he said sarcastically.

“Only compared to you,” I said.

“Gee, thanks.”

Wordlessly, we put on the masks and left the room.

Karofsky had been right about the anarchy. I guess that’s what happens when you lock up teenagers for over half a year with little food and watching each other slowly die off.

We packed up, Karofsky telling me about certain essentials he was taking that Bear Grylls (the star of Man Vs. Wild) always took. 

Before we had left, I’d also insisted on releasing the other students from their misinformation. We went to the PA broadcaster, then escaped out the back. 

We had no idea if the others heeded my warnings, but they were free. If they made the wrong decisions, I decided to just go with Miss Sylvester’s philosophy on the matter. Screwed up as it was, it was better than worrying for their sakes; and we left the school behind. 

It was a long enough walk to Karofsky’s house. I didn’t know how we were going to get to New York. We would have states to cross, let alone city to city to the coast.

We needed a plan. But first we needed to get to his house. And then we’d go to mine. One step at a time.

We couldn’t speak out here, not with the masks. When I packing to leave, I brought a pad and pen that I had gotten from a teacher’s desk. We could communicate on it if we needed to, but I preferred to leave it emergencies.

Karofsky and I walked in awkward silence. I didn’t mind too much. I just wanted to get there. It felt like we were walking for half an hour. In a town like Lima? Who knows?

When we finally walked in, it was like coming in from a snowstorm. It got tracked on the floor. We closed the door.

We took off our masks -- what a relief! “While we’re here, we might as well stay a while. Go on, make yourself at home,” said Karofsky. 

I took a look around. The kitchen was filthy. The living room was dark. I sunk myself onto the couch, and wondered what now. Suddenly, I was bored.

I tried the TV. Busted.

I turned it off and lay down on the couch. I didn’t want to feel too much at home, but it just felt so comfortable after months of sleeping on the floor. It had been too long; I had missed this.

I allowed myself to smile as my eyes drifted closed contentedly. I remained like that for a long while. After a while, I was somewhere else, I was back at the school, lying on the teacher’s lounge.

I watched myself get up, look around. There was something strange about all this. Steadily, I drifted to the door… I cracked it open…

And there I could see Karofsky. He was crying against a locker. No one else was around. He was crying for everyone he’d lost.

I opened the door wider, looked left down the hall; out the window, I saw the ash falling like snow, I almost believed it was snow. And it was dark, really dark, the darkest night I had seen.

I looked back at Karofsky. He was looking right at me, right into my eyes. And he was crying for me, too, his face literally darker now. I walked closer to him. “Hey,” I whispered. “I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere? See?”

Karofsky looked right into me. “Not for long. I’m going to lose you, Kurt. And soon.”

“I’m right here,” I repeated, trying to comfort him, stepping tentatively closer. And he didn’t waste anymore time. He stood up with a determined gaze, marched up to me without looking away for a second, and kissed me.

And I kissed him back. For a second.

“I always dreamed of the day you would. Maybe I’m not losing you after all.”

“And maybe I don’t feel as if you’re attacking me anymore. I actually want it.”

“I know you do.”

I woke up feeling disgusted with myself; but more than that, distraught. I could feel the real devastation from it still, the connection. And then I felt alarmed.

Dave had found me lying on the couch, holding me gently. As soon as I started to wriggle around, trying to escape, he held me down firmly. He tried to soothe me with his voice, and I started to settle down, even while I knew who he was, soothing me.

“Ssh, Kurt, I’m right here, settle down,” he said, and I figured out that he had just lifted my legs and sat were they had lain, they were just resting on his lap. I suddenly wondered if he had been voicing my dream.

I managed open my eyes. My face felt odd, so I just stared up at him, wondering where this side of him had come from. “Why are you crying?” he said. “What did you dream about?”

I was crying? I felt at my face and wipe a tear away, looking at it stunned. He seemed surprised at my reaction too. And then I felt it, the tracks of tears on my face. I realised I was crying. And I knew exactly the reason.

In my dream, Karofsky was crying, and I was soothing him. In real life, it must’ve been the opposite. But why? Was I mourning like the Karofsky in my dreams?

Then I heard him speak. “I always liked you, Kurt,” he said. “I didn’t want to, but I did. That’s why I beat on you so hard. An embarrassing crush.”

A grunt released from the back of my throat.

“You were always stronger than me,” he continued. “Maybe that was worst of all. I tried to fool myself that it was just envy, but that didn’t last too long.”

“I used to like Finn,” I admitted throatily. “But I didn’t treat him like dirt. In fact, I tried to help him.”

He paused for a moment. “I guess that’s the difference between us,” said David.

We didn’t speak for a while more, until I was waking up, alone on the couch. Suddenly, irrevocably, I missed him.

I lay there for several minutes, looking up at the dark ceiling and letting my mind drift. I thought hard and deep about Karof—David and I. Where were we going, in the end? And how could this be happening in the first place?

Then he returned. “There you are,” I smiled in relief. “How late is it?”

“Pretty late,” he said. “’Bout 10:30. Why?”

“No reason,” I said. “Have you slept?”

“Of course not. I’ve been watching you. You kinda freaked me out,” he laughed, “You’re all I have left, you know, I can’t really let anything happen to you.”

I almost argued, asking why he cared. But then I remembered what he’d just said. I didn’t have an argument. So how was I supposed to resist now? I still didn’t approve of his personality. Or his past actions. The guy wasn’t exactly like Finn. He wasn’t even like Puck. We were supposed to hate each other. So why was our relationship fraught with coy sentimentality?

Something else suddenly occurred to me. “Blaine!” I cried, bolting upright.

“What about him?” asked Karofsky calmly.

“Don’t you get it? He’s probably still alive! In Dalton, he’s in Dalton! We have to go back for him!”

Suddenly Karofsky was angry. “What makes you think he is still alive? By now, they’re probably all bailing out of school like we had to, anyway,” he argued.

“We have to at least try,” I said.

“Who’s ‘we’? I’m not going,” he said. “What makes you think I give a damn, huh? I don’t really need you. I can get to New York on my own.”

My chest filled up with anger at that comment. “David Karofsky,” I said, standing up to him, “you are coming. We are together in this, whether you like it or not! You wouldn’t even be here without me. Just admit it, you need me,” I asserted to him. “And I need you.”

“Do we?” he retorted. “Yeah, sure. Save it, Hummel,” he said, turning his back. “And the name’s Karofsky.”

When I found him again, he was settled on the couch, sitting and staring at the blank TV screen. And it looked like he was crying.

I asked him.

“No…” he said. “My eyes are just tired, that’s all.”

“Karofsky, it’s all right. I don’t care. Let me look at you,” I said, sitting next to him on the couch and putting my hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but still left it there.

“No,” he said simply.

“Karofsky…” I said. “You saw me crying too, don’t you remember?” I said in a soothing voice. “I don’t m—“

“I’m not crying!” he cried, turning his face to the side at me and hunching his back. “Besides, who cares if you’re crying? You’re just… you’re just…”

“I’m just what?” I asked, with a hint of accusation in my voice.

“You’re just…” Karofsky continued, “effeminate.”

“Big word,” I marvelled, only half impressed. The other half caught his implication.

“I was crying from a dream, Karofsky. In case you haven’t noticed--“

“Dave,” he corrected.

“What?”

“I want you to call me Dave.”

“You…” I said. Then I smiled. “I knew you couldn’t hate me.”

“Don’t go around smiling like that’s a good thing!” David retorted. “Why are you doing this? Making me want to like you when you’re just going to reject me for someone else in the end? Are you trying to punish me for what I used to do to you or something?”

“No, David, I’m not trying to punish you –“

“Then what?” he cried, spinning around to face me with red, angry eyes. He was crying. I took in the full picture of it, he was crying. Suddenly, the anger melted from his face and he turned back around, hiding his face again.

“I have no intention of leaving you behind once we find him. You have good reason to be jealous, I see that –“

“I’m not--!” he cried, looking back at me for a second before turning back.

I picked back up. “—but I’m not going to leave you behind. We’re going to stick with Blaine, regroup, and we’re going to stick together after that. The three of us. I know I have a responsibility to stick by you now, and I’m not abandoning it. But I won’t leave Blaine to die—“

“Assuming he hasn’t already,” David interrupted me.

I hesitated, not wanting to think that. “Right,” I said after a moment, “assuming he’s not dead.” I took a deep breath. “I won’t leave Blaine behind to die.”

David relaxed his back, straightening it slightly. “So then you have somebody, Hummel,” he said, “and I have no one.”

I kept my hand on his back for a long time, not knowing what to say. Because it was true, he did have no one left. I wasn’t being selfish, I managed to convince myself of that, but I still managed to feel guilty of that fact.

Occasionally, I would rub his back in small circles where my hand lay. I poured all the love in my gaze into the back of his head, the back of his neck. His back, itself. Eventually, it occurred to me. “You have me,” I said. “That’s all that matters.”

By now, it seemed that David had calmed down a bit; he was no longer crying. “So when do we go?” he asked.

I smiled. And that’s when things changed between us again. With one word, suddenly we were in a different relationship than we had ever been in before. With one word, suddenly I couldn’t be too mad at him over what came before, because I knew, even if he had a good excuse at the time, that he cared about me on some level.

I didn’t realise how he could, given our history, but he did.


	6. Shameless

It wasn’t long before we were facing each other again, having a proper conversation, the way it was meant to be. We discussed distance and means of travel (walking was the only way, a method I was not looking forward to), everything left to do. 

With the distance between Lima and Westerville, we were, for the first time, facing the problem of trying to avoid camping out there on the ash fields as there was over a day’s walk between the two towns.

There were other places between the towns, though. Those places must be all but abandoned by now, so would be our checkpoints. David knew how to break into locks, too. 

I tried not to think about that.

We were travelling southeast the whole way, so if we ever did take the huge trip to New York, we’d at least be slightly closer to the coast. And we’d have behind us some travelling experience.

Non-stop, the route would probably take one day and four hours. We would probably take much longer though, so we readied ourselves for a two-day trip, taking David’s fold-up map with us.

We had two checkpoints. The first would be Kenton. The second, right towards the end, was Delaware. We would leave Kenton at three a.m., I decided, as it was a long walk between Kenton and Delaware. The next day, we’d make the final stretch for Westerville.

Once there, I would lead to way to Dalton; I had been there twice.

Before we left, I reminded David to be careful. We weren’t travelling the most common route to Westerville. The roads may not be reliable.

My saddle bag was packed, and so was Dave’s sports bag. We put on our masks and left the house.

It was a long, monotonous trip. Roads stretched out into the horizon, and if we ever got to the end of one, there was another one waiting for us.

The landscape would be plain had it not been for the recent disaster that had turned everything grey and white, with an ugly bulkiness that hanged off of everything, and the sense of desertion. It was horrifying to look at. I kept close to David, substituting him for a protector.

He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think he was enjoying it. I frowned. He didn’t notice.

The scenery was growing wider and more open as we continued on, eventually disappearing into quieter places. When we eventually reached Kenton, we had walked most of the day, and I couldn’t wait to get inside the first building we saw. It felt like the fumes were sinking in, and I was so tired.

Dave stood in front of me as he opened the door, and moved inside. I rushed in after him. He shut the door and I ripped off the mask. “It is suffocating in that thing,” I said. “I don’t know how I can go on like that.”

“Relax, Kurt, its not that bad,” said Dave, in a voice somewhere between teasing and macho.

“Are you serious?” I asked. “Are you wearing the same face mask as I am? I swear the volcanic fumes are sneaking in.”

“You’re dreaming,” said Dave, guarded and serious now. “You’re probably letting your imagination run away with you. It’s probably just your hot breath that’s crowding you out. And you can get used to that. Besides, we don’t have a choice but to stay, either way. We’re staying the night here. And then we’re moving on.”

I glared at him, but he didn’t return my gaze. I was not making this up! He moved further into the shop and I followed him a few steps in, but I only watched as he raided over the counter.

“Not much back here,” he called back. “There are some boxes way to the back full of frozen food,” he said, bringing one to the counter and putting it down there. He opened it and rifled through. “I think I can figure out how to make them on my own. I’ve seen fast food workers do it often enough.” He pulled out opened packets of French fries and hash browns.

I felt a bit uneasy looking at them so plainly. I knew Mickey D’s was unhealthy, but right now it looked outright disgusting. “I’m not eating that. Do you know how bad for you that stuff is?”

“You’d better quit being so picky. Do you want to survive? You should change that attitude. We’re eating to survive now, Kurt. Your figure is the least of your problems.”

“Its not my –“

“Besides, we’re not staying here long. I don’t trust those doors. We’re here because we need to refuel. Don’t think we even stand a chance of walking all the way to Delaware tomorrow without something to drive us on. I saw how much you were struggling. You need this more than either of us. I can’t carry you, I’m weak as it is.”

I looked warily at the food as he carried it over to the deep fryer. It made me slightly queasy at the thought that I had to eat that. Fatty foods may be alright for him, but I was afraid if I ate that, I may puke it all up.

I told him this. “Shit,” he swore. “Hang on, I’ll see if I can find some meat back there.” Once again, he disappeared to the back. I waited in a seat near the counter nervously.

He brought out and grilled two cheeseburgers then pushed them across to me. I took them and chewed warily into the first one. He joined me just as I was starting my second one, with his pile up of fatty foods, and the smell suddenly filled my nose.

It smelled disgusting. I flared my nostrils for a moment and turned away. I tried to compose myself before turning back to my burger.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked.

“It really is,” I replied, trying to smell my own disgusting meal instead, but the fried food was still too overpowering.

“Do you want me to sit away from you--?”

“No,” I said, as surprised as him by my reaction. I covered my tracks by saying, “no, it’s…it’s really not that bad,” and smiling awkwardly. It was a lie, but at least it was one that let him believe I had been overreacting.

He visibly relaxed and started digging into his so-called food (because you could hardly consider it food, given that it had to be at least 80% artificial). 

I finished, and was forced to watch him finish eating, the smell now turned invasive, looking forward to the point that it was all gone from the table. And even then, I could smell it on his breath.

“Your breath smells like someone dipped you in the deep fryer,” I said.

“Well, you didn’t have to sit by me while I ate it,” he retorted. “You full yet? Because I’m pretty satisfied.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’m done.”

“Great, let’s go,” he said, standing up.

“W-wait…” I said. “Could we… just stay here a little longer? I could use a breather. I really don’t want to put my mask back on.” 

The real reason was that I was relaxed here. I wanted to enjoy it for a few more moments. Though what I said was true, too.

“That’s not a good idea. We’ve got to keep moving if you don’t want to get trapped by that ash. I saw a hall just across down the street. That’d be a good place to spend the night.”

“Pretty dark, too, I imagine,” I replied.

“You scared?” he teased. “You scared of the dark, Kurt?” 

It sounded strange when he said it like that. A little unnerving. He took that as fear. “You are!” he cried. “Kurt Hummel, afraid of the dark!”

“I am not afraid of the dark! I just…” --couldn’t tell him the real reason. 

“Just what?” he said. I didn’t respond.

“Don’t worry, Kurt, I’ll protect you,” he said, half mocking, as he put an arm around my shoulders, and I relaxed into it, because I knew there was no point in fighting back. Besides, I knew he half meant it, too.

He walked over, pulling me with him, to where I had put my mask, and handed it to me. Hesitantly, I put it back on, and he did likewise. Then we headed outside, and he moved his arm away, this time simply grabbing my hand, and we walked leisurely down the street that way, towards the hall.

It was a city hall. It wasn’t huge, but it looked big enough to hold a couple hundred people at a time. And as we moved past the heavy doors, I got the feeling that it used to be a theatre. I think I liked this place already.

“You’re right, Kurt, this place is dark,” teased David. “Better keep close to me, now, don’t want the boogeyman to get you!” 

I didn’t know what was the worse part was, but I think he was actually trying to make an excuse to get close to me. I could feel the lust radiating off him. But the fact was, I was afraid of the dark since the disaster. So much so that I don’t think I’d even have cared that much if he was radiating lust; so long as he protected him, or drove off the fear.

I pushed him away from me. “I’m gonna try and find the lights. Maybe they still work.”

He followed closely behind me as I felt along the wall, making crude puns. Finally, I found the switch. The lights flickered.

I turned and looked at David. “You’re not exactly earning my respect right now,” I informed him, and moved past him towards the stage.

“You are a glorified know-it-all who thinks he knows better than everyone!” He attacked me defensively, and he followed me at a further distance at an angry march. “But you don’t know better, do you? You would be dead right now if it wasn’t for me, so why would I want your respect?”

The insult cut me deep. I could feel emotions broiling in my chest, I wanted to spit those words back in his face, but for a moment or two I was frozen. 

Finally, I turned around and spat at him, “You should want my respect because without me, you’d be dead too! You don’t have to like me, but at least you could be more civil!”

I breathed. “If we’re gonna spend the night here, you could at least stop with the derivative cracks. I won’t be able to sleep if you keep it up. So, like you pointed out to me, I need my strength for tomorrow.”

His face dropped. “Fine. I’ll just find a space on the floor to sleep.”

At first, I kept a close eye on him as he searched out a space to sleep that night. Warily, I lowered myself down onto the stage floor above him, still keeping a close eye on him as I lay there. 

I don’t know if it was the flickering lights or my own imagination, but I kind of thought I caught a look of desire as he gazed back at me. I drifted into sleep…

I was in the ash-covered school ground, surrounded by my friends and family. Dad was there, and Mercedes, Tina, Quinn, Artie… Finn, and Carole…

No one looked out of place, no one was suffocating. They were all looking at me, smiling, like a big family. They were talking to me, saying encouraging things, but it was like they were all on mute.

Then Dad lit a cigarette, and that’s when it all went wrong. As soon as the match sprung into life, he caught on fire, his whole body ablaze. He fell to the ground, and suddenly, everyone was so far away. Mercedes suffocating on the air, Tina was balled on the ground, Quinn was wasting away on the bench, fading to a skeleton, Artie was rubbing at his eyes, teetering in his wheelchair, Finn and Carole were at either side of Dad, screaming, crying, trying to fan out the flames…

And suddenly, the scene was fading away, turning black, and a hand was grasping mine. I looked at my side, and saw Karofsky, his face mean, lit up like in a horror movie. He pulled me towards him, acting rough. And then I was alone…

“Kurt,” he said, and the shock of my name from his mouth sent me sprawling awake, “its alright.” 

I was having another dream. But I was waking up from it, and I don’t think he knew. At least this time I wasn’t crying; I had already cried myself out before I went to sleep. 

“David,” I said with a smile. I sighed, falling back into my own surroundings. “I know.”

It was dark, the lights must’ve burnt out, and he was cradling me from behind. I didn’t know if he had snuck up on me after I’d fallen asleep or not, wanting to be close to me again, but he was there now, comforting me. 

I thought maybe he wasn’t that bad. It seemed like I was opening myself up to him again.

I suddenly realised what it would be like if it were only me left in the world, forever alone and miserable. And soon I began to accept Karofsky, for all his flaws.

And I knew it was just the desperation, for someone, anyone. If it were to all go away tomorrow, if all my friends came back, I wouldn’t think twice about him. But deep within me, there was a need to be around someone, to have someone to talk to and depend on.

Whatever else he may be, Karofsky was at least that.

And in the end, that was how it was between us. I spent the morning trapped in that hall denying it, but near the end, I no longer could. David Karofsky made me happy; he was probably the last guy on earth who could. But he did.

The fact was, I had judged him too quickly, but I had good reason. 

So much for my old convictions. The last guy on earth… I now knew how wrong I’d been, from the bottom of my heart.

He used to disgust me. Now I realised that the feelings I felt came from an entirely different place. He always stuck out as the one I hated most; now I realised there was another reason he stood out to me so much. I was now disgusted with myself.

I’m not proud of what happened then; the smiles somehow transformed and grew into shameless flirts, half-formed, growing. I blushed and looked away.


	7. Journey Wasted

We left late the next day. We didn’t realise how late it had gotten, it was still dark inside city hall. Dave said we had no choice, we couldn't stay in Kenton any longer, we had to move on.

Already out on the open road, I was already sick of walking again, but I had to, so I pushed on. But after an hour or so, I couldn’t keep it in much longer, and started to complain. David jumped right in to distract me, and we started playing 20 Questions on the notepad. We walked closer, shoulder to shoulder, scribbling all over the white paper.

The walk was still hard, but I started minding it less and less.

By mid-afternoon, we arrived halfway to Delaware in a township called Pharisburg, where we crashed some abandoned house to eat. 

I wondered as we sat at the table, eating what little there was left in the house, if we could make the stretch from here to Westerville by the end of the day. Delaware was only four hours or so away.

Dave didn’t think so. It was five more after that to Westerville, and that was non-stop. At this point, he didn’t have much confidence in my ability to get there so quick.

It was possible we might make it to Delaware by the end of the day, but not Westerville. I was exhausted of the actual distance away it was, especially since I’d been there twice before, and it had been less than two hours on the bus then.

I resented the fact that we had to walk. By car, we’d be there already. Instead, I’m tiring myself out on energy I don’t have.

“So what now?” I asked. “It’d be nice to have an actual bed to sleep in tonight. I don’t think they even have those in Dalton. We’ll have a nine hour walk tomorrow, I’m sure we can make that.”

“You’re being lazy, Kurt, we haven’t even walked that long today, and there’s still plenty time left in the day.”

“Not that you can tell,” I muttered. “David, I am genuinely worn out! If I don’t get a decent night’s rest, I’ll be even more useless out there than I am now. Besides, it’s not like out there is a clear sunny day; we’re in an apocalypse, for crying out loud! The air in here is clear enough to talk and breathe, so staying here can only help get my strength back quicker. Then we can hopefully get all the way to Westerville in the morning.”

Dave had to concede to that point. “What if it still takes you longer than a day?”

“We keep going until we do get there. It can’t be too much longer.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dave cried. “’Not much longer’? It’s still ten hours from here, probably more than that with you dragging behind me! It’ll still take probably a day to get there!”

“So we’re agreed,” said Kurt calmly, taking Dave’s anger in his stride. “We’re staying here tonight.”

Tersely, Dave agreed.

It was a very ominous and eerie day and night. There was no way to avoid the dark and poisonous outdoors, despite the protective walls shielding them from the wind and ash.

It was as close to safety as we were likely to get, period. But I felt uncomfortable.

I think Dave could sense that, because he decided not to be an ass and be supportive. He was even nice. It was new territory.

That was what closed the deal, if it were. That, and the luxurious proximity to beds. One day, this would all be gone and buried. Until then, we had each other.

I let him hold me. I let him kiss me. I kissed him back. It was only to stave off the fear and discomfort of what was happening outside. I don’t even remember acting upon it. My body was simply reacting beyond my control; there was nothing I could have done to stop it even if I wanted to.

And deep down, I didn’t want to. Because this felt good. No matter who Karofsky was in my mind, maybe he was worth this.

“So, Kurt, last night…”

“It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Nothing,” Dave repeated hollowly. “So…”

“Once we’re ready, we can go. Just like you wanted.”

“Yeah,” said Dave. “Just like I wanted.”

He seemed a bit distracted by something, but I decided it was better not to pay it much mind. Instead, I just had to guide him through that morning, checking everything, mind cleared once again and ready to go. 

(It was just too bad the weather outside didn’t reflect my good mood. But I was certainly determined it didn’t wreck it.)

We put up our masks and headed back on our journey.

It was arduous. It was bad enough that we were stuck out in that poison, blinding landscape. Added to that, was Dave, pushing me through it all day as if I were a soldier. It was exhausting. By the time we got to Delaware, my limbs were screaming in agony, and I wanted to sleep for a few days.

We took shelter, and there he was, still acting cold, treating me like a criminal. I wanted to scream at him, demand what had gotten into him, especially after last night, but I was way too tired. Maybe in the morning…

“We have to be out of here in another hour.”

To hell with it. “Dave, what has gotten into you? We’re going to get there whether I match your pace or not, so what is your problem?” I cried. “Can’t you at least humour me? I’m doing as well as I can.”

“You can do anything you want, if you just try.”

“That is not funny!” I screamed.

“Now I guess you know how I felt.”

That caught me off-guard. “What?”

“Back at school. When I used to bully you and the glee club. You were always shoving it my face, how you all were so freaky. How much you didn’t care about what anyone thought. How you were so much better than me.”

I didn’t know what to say. “David…” I said.

“Forget it,” he said, “forget I said anything.” And he turned away from me, heading to some corner.

“Wait,” I said, following him. “I’m sorry. I never thought…”

“Of course you didn’t,” said Dave. “No one ever thinks, do they? We all just go to war against each other, like it’s the only way to keep sane. To live with yourself…”

He turned around, looking at me, his eyes full of helpless anger. “People all look down on bullies, try to change us, but did they ever see themselves so clearly? Did they ever look at themselves and try to change? Truth is, most don’t. We all have flaws. Even you,” he said bitterly. “That doesn’t mean we should change. Especially when it’s so safe not to. Especially when you have it working for you. So don’t act like you feel sorry for me. I’m just fine with the way I am.”

“Are you?” I said, after just a moment of stunned silence.

I sighed and shook my head in exasperation as I crashed on the couch, dead on my feet. He looked down at me, questioning. When I didn’t respond to his gaze. 

“What do you mean?” he said. The question forced my gaze up.

I simply gazed for a few seconds while I formed a reply. His eyes were searching, eager and impatient. His expression seemed to match this. “You’re gay,” I said, and he winced. “If you were fine with who you were, you wouldn’t have winced.”

“That wasn’t what I was talking about, though,” he said. “I didn’t mean that I was fine being… gay,” he told me. “But I’m strong. I’m a bad-ass –“

“You sound like Puck,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“There is nothing wrong with me. And there’s nothing wrong with the fury –“

“The ‘fury’ isn’t going to help you survive.”

“How do you figure? With my strength, and my propensity for watching Man vs. Wild, I can’t fail. You, on the other hand—“

“Did that show cover ash fields?” I challenged. “Did it tell you how to survive a super-volcanic eruption? Did it, in fact, tell you anything about super-volcanoes at all?”

“He’s been in volcanic environments before… He once landed straight on a volcano. Twice, actually. At least twice.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“Well, screw you!” he retorted.

“Real clever,” I said, “your arguments never cease to fill me with awe.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Karofsky. He sank into the sofa, and we collapsed into silence. 

Several hours later I awoke to full darkness, still sleeping on that couch. He was gone, and I immediately missed him. When had we become so connected, Karofsky and me? I yearned for his touch.

I rolled over, chilled to my skin, wanting. I tried to get back to sleep.

I didn’t wake feeling entirely resting. I could feel my missing hours in my skin, and it was all Karofsky’s fault. Why did I want him so much? No, I wouldn’t think about that. I didn’t want him at all. Everything would become so clear in the day ahead, when we arrived in Westerville to reunite with Blaine.

Despite my tiredness, I walked that day in the wilderness with a strengthened stride in my step. In just a few hours, I would see his face. Blaine, the guy I really deserved…

We found ourselves wandering the streets of Westerville that afternoon, and I lead the way through the now familiar streets. I could hear Karofsky grunting behind me, but I ignored him. I didn’t care whether he wanted to be here or not. Nothing was going to bring me down today.

We stepped into Dalton’s immaculate halls, clean and fresh of ash. Surely in a place as beautiful as this, Blaine had to still be alive. I felt like nobody could ever tire of walking this halls, and I walked them with pride, glad to be back here, my safe haven.

I managed to track down his friends, Wes and David.

“Wait, your name’s David too?” asked Karofsky.

“Yes,” said David, “and who are you?”

Karofsky and I spared each other awkward expressions. Then he held his hand out to David. “Call me Dave,” he said.

“Well, Dave,” he said, shaking his hand. “Good to meet you. That’s a relief, everyone calls me David anyway. Any friend of Kurt’s is a friend of ours.”

I forced a smile that came out more of a grimace. “Have you seen Blaine anywhere?” I asked.

“Blaine?” said Wes. “Oh, I’m sorry, Kurt, Blaine’s…”

Wes and David exchanged expressions. “He’s dead,” answered David. “Died last week of starvation. It’s getting pretty desperate around here. So little food is left.”

“But…” said Kurt. “I thought you guys were rock stars.”

“It’s true, we were pretty popular before Yellowstone,” said David. “But after that, it was pretty much every man for himself.”

“And Blaine didn’t make it,” Wes added apologetically.

“But… we were supposed to…”

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” said Wes. “But he held on as long as he could. He went out fighting.”

There was a wealth of emptiness inside me, and I could already feel hot tears welling in my eyes. How could he be dead? He was supposed to be my way out. I loved him…

I stayed there, in Dalton’s polished wood and luxurious fabric sofas, staining it with tears for what felt like hours, surrounded by loving hands and gentle words. But it didn’t help; nothing helped. Blaine was gone, and it felt as if the skies would come flooding down to blur the darkness.

What would I do without him?


	8. Moving On

We stayed for two weeks. Every polished wall, every empty wall or room or chair, reminded me of Blaine. I missed him, I ached in my chest with it, but it was addictive, every sight. It wasn't Blaine, but he filled every crevice, wormed his way into the hole where my heart was. He curled himself up in there, and I had to carry him around all day with me, as I took in every sight with more and more hunger.

He was heavy in my chest, and slowly consumed by the blackness the longer he stayed. I had to grab onto anything I could in order to remember him, to see his face.  
It's all well and good to say he wasn't worth this, to pick myself up and dust myself off and move on to something new, but what was there worth moving onto in this new ugly world? It was hard enough to mourn the death of someone you loved in normal circumstances, in the world I came from. But the fact remained that this was Blaine, and this feeling I had... no matter what I wished, it was a love that just took over. And I was proud of it, that love, and I didn't want to let it go. It just wouldn't be worth it to let something like that go; it was too big. It would be losing something in myself, like giving myself away to do that.

Karofsky wouldn't let me go, either. He constantly told me those things I didn't want to hear. He told me to move on. He told me he wasn't worth it. He was worth it, though, he was worth all of it. He had to be.

Parts of me thought Karofsky was jealous. I wouldn't let myself linger too long on that thought, though. I couldn't think about that, couldn't think about what that meant about our relationship, because if we had gotten that far... we weren't that far, we couldn't be. I relied on him, that was all. He helped and supported me, but it was far from love, like the kind I'd shared with Blaine.

"We gotta get out of here, Kurt," he told me. "I'm worried about you. You can't keep going on like this. There isn't enough food in here, and you're wasting away as it is."

"I don't need that much food," I said.

"That is bullshit, Kurt. Even you need more than you're taking. It's him, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"We're leaving today. This place isn't good for you."

"How would you know what's good for me?" I said. "One more week."

"No way," said Karofsky. "One more day, at most. But we really should go today."

"One more day," I agreed begrudgingly. "But we take Wes and David."

"Can't afford to," said Karofsky. "If for no other reason that you need to let go of this Blaine guy. You've been using this place as an anchor and you know it. You'll do it to them, too."

His face clouded before my eyes as I felt hot tears well up in my eyes. "I can't do it, Karof--"

"Call me Dave."

"Dave..." I said. "I... I..."

I could feel my lips trembling in an ugly loss of control. "I can't let him go! I still see his fave, and I... and I... he's part of me..."

"What about me?" he said, and I could already start to feel guilty. "Couldn't I be part of you too?"

"Oh, Dave, I... I'm sorry, I... I just see his face, and I can't think about... you that way. It's just... he's just..."

"Yeah, I get it," he said, his arms enveloping me warmly. "I get that..."

"I just can't," I repeated, out of guilt. Miraculously, he understood. A man like that.

We had a day left until we had to leave. Just me and him, out there alone in the world again, perhaps never to see any of this again, never to anyone here alive again. I tried again to convince him to bring along Wes and David, but he wouldn't budge. So I wandered around Dalton Academy again, taking everything in for what likely to be the very last time.

And the pressure of everything pressing in against me kicked in, not just Blaine but dad and Finn and Carole, and all of the glee club, my friends...  
It was too much, and I cried against the ornately carved wall for over an hour, knees curled up into my chest.

He finally found me. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I repeated, apologising profusely. He insisted I didn't need to, and led me away from there, somewhere I could sleep. I needed to sleep. We ate dinner, and he forced me to eat everything I could, because once we got out there, it would be unforgiving. I wasn't sure I was ready.

After dinner, I confessed everything; not only how I felt about going out there but about everything that had come crashing down on me, everything I'd lost, tiresome tears returning to my cheeks, soaking them in a rash.

I fell asleep in his arms, and when I woke, he was still holding me protectively in his arms, squeezing me tight.

I smiled. While today was the moment of truth, I was quite happy just to lay here, maybe for the next few hours. Honestly, I could die here happy.

The warmth and the touch of Karofsky's arms on mine held me through the grim ashfields the morning we left. It kept me holding on, it was the only thing that sustained me as I kept on marching through that wasteland as Blaine's smiling face flashed through my mind all day, tormenting my chilled, tense body.

I hugged myself tight, like he might've done at night, like Karofsky had this morning, and I figured out I may already be heading for the rebound, but I didn't care, even with that violent kiss in my memory, haunting every encounter with him towards that end. It was the sort of thing you weren't supposed to allow in a healthy relationship, and yet here I was, attempting to forgive it. Had I no pride?

I breathed in hot air through my mask, the sort of suffocating hot air I always breathed in this mask, yet now I felt like I was hyperventilating. But I couldn't take it off, the mask, not when volcanic ash threatened to suffocate me for real, so I could only attempt to control my breathing for the miles we had to go until the next house or town.

It wasn't until several hours later that we gusted in from the ashfields into another house. As soon as I closed the door behind me, Karofsky's mask was off, and we was glaring at me like I'd just gotten us chased for miles in the snow by angry policemen.

"What the hell happened out there! I thought I was going to lose you!"

I pulled my mask off over my head. "Well, excuse me if I'm not as heartless as you out there, but you did just pull me out of everything safe and familiar and everything I cared about!"

"It wasn't there anymore! I just saved your life, two times over! I saved you from yourself -- you would've starved back there --"

"And I almost choked out there! I would've preferred starvation!"

"You would, you sissy. What does suffocating even have to do with your boyfriend, anyway?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I a sissy for wanting to die--"

"Yes!" cried Karofsky. "You'd really be willing to die over one guy? Seems pretty pathetic to me!"

"Oh, what would you know? You've never been in love like I have."

"Says Juliet to her sassy gay friend."

"Did you... did you just call yourself..."

"Never mind!" said Karofsky, blushing. "I just don't want you to get hurt, okay? You're all I got."

I looked at him in shock. "You... you actually care about me, don't you?"

"It -- it's not like that or anything," said Karofsky. "I just -- I'd just get bored without you, that's all."

I smiled back at him. I didn't know what else to say, so I just smiled. "Thank you."


	9. Dangers on the Road to New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They spend their first night without shelter, and Kurt wrestles with his developing feelings for Karofsky.

I suspected there was a bit more to the story, but I didn’t push him. He would only say that these weren’t times to be thinking of such things, and I could understand why he would think that. But if anything, I saw it as an excuse. He treated it as nothing. I wasn’t exactly happy about that, but there were better occasions to bring it up.

It grew dark, and we sought shelter. His face was hidden in the shadows of the forest as I settled down on bed sheet we stole from the previous town, after laying it down on the ashen ground as if it were sand. We couldn’t take off our masks. It was still far too dangerous out here.

He was far from me, staring through the trees and acting as if I weren’t there at all.

“Karofsky,” I said softly, but the mask muffled my voice. I felt my eyes well at the sound and the distance. I couldn’t take off my mask. We still had many miles to go, and removing it here among all this ash could mean my death.

He turned back to me with his hard, distraught eyes. He didn’t say anything, he knew how hopeless that would be. Instead, he simply shook his head and pointed further into the forest.

“Don’t,” I said.

He mumbled nonsensically. His eyes were sincere, full of authority and assurances.

“Fine,” I sighed, gesturing my agreement.

He left me, and I felt cold and bare. I was alone, and all the night was closing in on me. We had travelled for weeks. There would be many more before we reached whatever was left of New York.

I settled down on the sheet, white like the ash spilling in at the sides, and I squeezed my eyes shut to pretend it wasn’t, but I couldn’t ignore the truth. This was a life I was completely unsuited for. One I was being forced to share with Karofsky, of all people. This was a man who had once bullied me, and kissed me. He wasn’t high up on the list who I’d prefer to battle an apocalyptic wasteland with, and he knew it.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to pretend I was in bed at home. But we were far from the safety of the Lima of my childhood. It was far behind us now.

I felt a shadow hanging over me in that darkness, embracing me through the cold, coming out from my heart. I didn’t feel safe here, and it kept me up half the night. It was this idea that I just couldn’t shake, worse than any I’d ever had. It chilled me, and I held on to Karofsky’s arm as he slept. I hoped he’d never find out about this; I certainly was never going to tell him. We were the only ones out there, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen in the dark. Perhaps we could die on our own of suffocation, starvation, exposure. It freaked me out.

“Kurr,” said Karofsky, muffled by his mask but audible by his close proximity. When had he got that close? I tried to pull away but he held me protectively into his side.

“Karofsky,” I said, but I don’t know how much of his name he must have really heard. We said nothing more but remained like that for the rest of the night.

When I woke up the next morning, my head was buried in his chest. I jolted up with a start and wandered away from him, trying to forget that ever happened. I couldn’t like him, the one who had kissed me hatefully in the locker room so long ago… but perhaps that was another life. I barely felt it anymore, the disgust I felt for him back then. Right now, it was as if I’d stepped into another world, with a whole new set of rules. Surely, even a relationship like that could work here. Even if he did lose all his hair by the time he was thirty, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. It was such a small reason to reject someone. 

My whole life I had lived such a shallow life. I don’t know what I was thinking.

I paced around the sheet for a few minutes before Karofsky woke up. “Kurr?” he asked. “Wha aa oo ooing?”

I didn’t bother to try to speak, just lifted my palm up in front of me to gesture him to get up. Once he did, I gestured away to the road, saying we must go.

Back on the road, it was hot under our masks, almost suffocating. But at least there was solid concrete under our feet. Even it was a detour off the main road, it would cut our time.

We should've just stayed on the main road. Why did we come down here? I remembered now... because Dave had pointed us down towards here. And we had slept out here, on the dangerous ash, in the woods. I could barely complain anymore about such situations, if it weren't for the tenuous situation we were balanced on. One slip of the mask last night and we could've, either of us, suffocated in our sleep.

Finally, we re-emerged from the track through woods and headed out on our second day towards New York, trudging through the hail of snow-white ash.

Starless night bled into starless day, but there barely seemed any difference. We walked for hours, in silence, and made little progress from horizon to horizon. When we finally made it another city, we barely stopped to check the name but broke into the nearest house and shut ourselves in.

I took off my mask with a relieved huff. All the things I had bottled up for over a day and had been waiting to say suddenly left me, so I sank into a ratty couch instead.

He sank beside me. "Kurt --"

"What was that last night?" I said. "Because I... I don't know... we could've died out there. One false slip..."

He looked at me in horror, realising the danger he had put us in for the first time. "Kurt, I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't," I told him. "But I still... At the time, I wanted... but I really shouldn't..."

"Kurt," said Dave, "it's okay."

"No, it's not," I cried. "Out there, exposed, in the open like that, with ash closing around us. How did we ever survive? We can't do that again --"

"We don't, and we'll die anyway."

"No. No, I refuse to believe that --"

"Besides, it wasn't my point. You can let yourself feel, Kurt. Whatever happened out there, it was my fault, and you can blame me. I won't do it again, I swear. But you have to admit, you want this --"

"Do I?" I snapped. "Oh, that's just like you, isn't it? You would have to think that, wouldn't you? You people always do. As if you think it can make up--"

"I didn't rape you, Kurt."

"Yeah, well..." I didn't know what to say. Did I really think it was like that? No, no I didn't, butＩdidn't really want him either. I couldn't; it was him.

"I know," I said, with my eyes cast forward and hands in my lap. He cupped my wrist, and it didn't feel wrong. I blushed, feeling entirely too hot, but it didn't feel wrong. So what did it feel?  
Nice, it felt nice. Even romantic.

"Sorry," I said.

"So am I. For everything I did to you before. It seems so petty now."

"It was petty," I said.

We still had about two days' walk to New York, but we decided to   
stay for the night until we could figure out what to do.

We shared the couch, for once completely giving myself up to him as if he didn't bully me mercilessly last year, something I swore I would never do, not with the likes of him.

I tried to feel bad about it. But the anger I once had for this man was all but dissipated by the time spent as partners against this apocalypse. I couldn't truly hate him, anymore.

His arms around me were warm. I was the smaller spoon, as I faced the cold air outside of his protection. I was still self-conscious of this intimacy, but not enough to break out of it. It was far colder and unsafe out there, and Dave really did calm me down at the end of a long day.

We spent much of the next morning rummaging the house and several more down the road. After that we had enough, and it got boring, so we continued on.

We decided to keep going to New York. We were moving on anyway, and we still couldn't afford to stay. So we did what we could, and moved on.

I was thankful we'd taken so long the previous day: without that time, I didn't know how long I could've kept breathing in that thing before I got sick of it. It was no better now, but I felt I had the energy to suffer it.


	10. Borderline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Kurt head for the nearest borderline towards New York, and Kurt discovers the limit to his relationship with Karofsky.

Food was running scarce. There was little to no food left in cupboards in the next town, or the next. They were beginning to find out what it was like in the wild.

Almost. With all this ash around, it was hard to tell what they should do.

"We need to save this stuff," I said. "We may still need it down the road."

"Stop thinking of your damn vanity, Kurt. You're not going to impress me. We can't save it, we need to eat everything we can to survive."

"This has nothing to do with vanity! We have think ahead, Dave!"

"What would you suggest?" he said. 

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe we could fill whatever tap water might still exist in these parts and take it with us?"

"Kurt, we just have to face it. One of these days, we're gonna have to stop relying on scavenging these houses and start hunting the things that come here. And it may get to be too dirty for you--"

"I can handle it --" 

"Can you?" said Dave. "Someone like you?"

I was beginning to get mad. "Someone like me?" I shot. "Someone like me can handle a lot more than you think I can! I think you remember who my father was?"

"Yeah, well..." he said sheepishly. "You're not him. I mean... we'll see."

"Yeah," I said madly. "We'll see."

We walked on.

The slap of water resounded in my ears. One foot slowly in front of the other, I looked around, searching for its source.

A river, mildly slapping waves, ran parallel to the road. Did that used to exist? No... it ran through a narrow, muddy ditch. I drew Dave's attention, pointing.

He looked between me and it. He looked to the sky confused. He bottled the murky water and moved on.

His eyes were fierce, glaring forward determinedly, without flinching to look anywhere else, let alone me. But there was no power in it; he looked scared.

His power had always been in his hands, and he clenched his right now on his side. I stared at it now, imagining those hands on me, shoving me into lockers or gripping my throat.

But my hands aren't just killing machines, said the voice in my head that sounded like him. And I imagined them wrapped around my waist, stroking my back, stroking my face as he kissed me. Just as he had in my dreams.

Those hands could be so dextrous, though, so much more than him. They were nimble and adroit, could carry anything, compact anything, start fires in the most useless circumstances. He might even be able to create something of spare parts if there was need for it. All I had to do was ask.

Where was my power; in my face, in my voice. Those things were useless in this environment. I was useless, and he held all the power. I relied on him, and I didn't like it.

It wasn't just that this was Karofsky, and that he had done so much wrong in his life, so much wrong to me. It wasn't even that I felt I should be independent, or that I wanted to get away from him, or I was afraid of being in a relationship with him, or any of the other numerous reasons popping in my head that I could think of. I just wanted something of my own too, something to see me through this apocalypse, some reason I was special.

I didn't have glee anymore, or Julliard, or any bright and glittering future I had always believed in but made no solid plans for. Just like I had never planned for this. But at least I would see the outside of Ohio, at least I would finally see New York one last time, though I was too late in all likelihood to see its lights.

What would be waiting for us when we reached the big city? Would there be people still there, would there be a civilization left clinging on? Would there finally be authority or emergency services, ready to rescue us? Or would we be left alone?

We reached the state border, over into Pensylvania following the Ohio river through street after street named after numbers and faded ideals like liberty. This wasn't the America it was just months ago. This was a country in ruins.

Nothing here felt safe. I could feel eyes in every corner, and I fought the urge to cling to Dave; I must appear strong. I must remember I'm strong; all those years in school, toughening me up to deal with this, so much bigger than the old problems.

But without that abuse, both physical and mental, even that which I endured from the man beside me, I might already be dead.

Now we had to fight for every scrap of shelter, every morsel of food. These days, I might kill for the opportunity to do that again, just to know someone else was out there beside Dave, but then it horrified me.

We booted out a young couple, who probably had more right to be there than we did. But I was so desperate for fresh air, to talk, to eat and maybe drink that I surrendered to every violent action he expected of me. I pulled her blonde hair and held her hard against me while he beat the crap out of her boyfriend or husband, or whatever he had been before all this started.

Sometimes I look back on them in deepest regret, and wonder if we doomed the human race doing that. If not us, then I'm sure it was someone else, somewhere. Either way, it's still a heavy burden to carry. Especially with my tiny hands. 

When finally we were alone, we locked all the doors and windows, barring windows with planks even knowing then how easy it would be to lose this place. Only when it was done did we take our masks off and relax. I tried to think of something to say, but I was consumed with the monster I was becoming, shocked into silence that I could become what I hate.

I have learnt since that it's only too easy. It happened to everyone.

We had been travelling for quite an amount of time together. So naturally, alone together, he would have to corner me in the kitchen as I attempted to scrape together something mildly edible.

He pinned me against the counter, facing him, pelvises pressed in together and getting hot.

"You want to travel with me," he said.

"Mm," was all I managed to say. I wanted to resist him, had to, but I couldn't; I didn't want to.

He pressed harder, pinning me with sweet relief. "Mm," I said louder. And then, the dreaded words, "Give it to me..."

"I will," said Dave, "but first there's something you have to give me..."

My walls and defences went back up, and I knew whatever it was, I had to say no. It just wasn't fair.

"You have to stand by me. No matter what."

I had no idea how to respond to that, I didn't know what I should say, what he was asking. But before I even had time enough to fully consider the request, I was moaning with increasing volume, trying to hold myself back again. And then I found myself speaking. "You know I can't do that..."

"Why not?" he demanded.

I froze. I had no idea why not. But I had to have an answer for him. 'No idea,' my mind screamed, while I simply pushed against the pressure.

He walked off from me, and turned around. Far too hot and bothered now to worry about dignity or restraint, and snuck up behind him and pressed hard into his backside, wrapping my arms around him. "I know you want me too," I said. "You've wanted this for a while."

He turned back on me.

"I know," he said, "but I can't."

"I know you can," I said, trying to control myself.

"You should finish making dinner."

"I can't. Not now..."

"There's a borderline, Kurt," said Dave.

"Like you care about that," I said maliciously. "You didn't care about that when you kissed me in the locker room, before all of this. You didn't care when you bullied me --"

"That was all in the past --"

"But it still matters, and you know it. All of this... everything we've been doing... you don't think that says something about us? I'm becoming as bad as you. You're making me as bad as you --"

"I'm not making you do anything, that is all you! Maybe you're finally beginning to realise what it takes to survive. You know you are, you know you wanna survive."

I thought about my dad, and that completely killed the mood. I stepped off from him, trying to regain control of my body, embarrassed. "I have to survive," I said. "I don't think he'd want me doing this..."

"What, coming on to me?"

"No!" I cried. "Killing people -- letting you --" I stopped, breathing deeply. I couldn't, just couldn't think of myself as a killer. I wasn't. "No," I said. "I'm not."

"You may think you're not, but sooner or later you're going to find out what you really are," said Dave. "You're going to find out you're a killer. And that's okay. Whatever it takes to survive --"

"How can you say that's okay? That's _not_ okay!" I cried. "I'm not a killer! Don't you see, that's how you kill a society! I'm not going to kill society... I'm not going to... we need to be civilised! In order to survive, we need to..."

"Do you really think we can do that while there are so many people choking up America? We have to kill off the competition, at least until this all goes away. We can start again then..."

"No. There's no way..."

But there was no way to argue with him. He might be right, but I couldn't accept it. "You'll kill us all off!" I cried.

He simply stared at me, pityingly.

"Don't look at me like that!" I cried.

He said nothing.

Unable to withstand his withering gaze any longer, and ran off to some other room in the house and stayed there all night. Some time in the night, he came in the bed and crawled in behind me. I had nothing to say, nothing to do in reaction to him. I had no more walls, no more ability to reject him now, so I just settled into bed to sleep.


	11. Sick

It took a full day following the Ohio River the next day to reach Pittsburgh, where they had an even tougher time finding somewhere safe to sleep. Dave was perfectly at home here under normal circumstances, but these weren't normal circumstances. It took all his aggression to get us through the streets safely, and even then, we had to take to sleeping in a rundown pub for all the room there was in Pittsburgh.

We have been through Pittsburgh several more times since that first visit, and each time we have found no one there. We have looked each time, desperate to find some sign of life. But we are alone.

Even when we arrived there for the first time, the population was waning. And it would still take us another 10 days to reach New York. Perhaps when we got there, it would be just sparse enough to survive. It had to be safer there, farther to the coast, the farther we moved from all this ash.

I might have heard the word fag thrown around in the night by the ignorant pigs that slept in the dark corners of the pub. It was almost like being back at McKinley, sleeping in the classrooms again, for all those months we had been there. Only these pigs were fully grown men, no better than their teenage counterparts, trying to victimise us even as the world fell down around us, without pity that we were teenagers living in a dying world.

Dave hid away from them, no more the bully I had known than the kind boy he must've been before the world of boys took over, back before he could walk. Strong on the outside weak on the inside, the complete opposite of what I was.

I stood up to them, yelled at them, and he stood behind me like a child and mother. The men didn't back down, but neither did I. It only took their advance on me for Karofsky to take over, launching up from behind me and punching his lights out. The two men engaged in a fist fight, and Karofsky was winning, until the man's two buddies ganged up on him.

"That's it?" I cried. "You can't be a man, so you gang up on us? You're obviously not man enough to back yourself up --"

In the next moment, that coward launched himself upon me with a raised fist, and Karofsky intercepted him, just moments before contact with my face, knocking him down sideways onto the smooth wooden floor, aggravating his skin red.

"That's it!" the man screamed. "You two fags are out of here!"

"You can't make us leave," I shot at him.

"The look of you, you couldn't leave yourself if you wanted to," added Karofsky. "Here, why don't I help you out the door?"

"Let go of me!" the man cried, flailing as Karofsky grabbed at his hand. The man stood up and turned his back bitterly from Karofsky, retreating back to his corner of the pub.

We retreated to ours, on the opposite side of the wide room, in a corner near to the door but along the wall from it. Darkness descended on us, and we fell asleep in each others' arms.

I woke with a start the next morning as we were tossed out onto the ashen ground in the early hours of the morning, just as light began to hit the horizon. I checked my mask was safely in position before I scrambled along the ground to Dave, as he landed down to my left. I fastened his mask tighter and woke him up.

"Dave... Dave..." I said, shaking him. He lifted his eyes and stared groggily at me. "Kurt... what are you doing here?"

"He kicked us out. Wake up!"

"That... bastard. I'll give him a taste --"

"Dave," I said, smiling beneath my mask. "It's okay. It's morning. It just means we can start walking all that much earlier to New York."

"They stole our stuff," Karofsky said, rolling himself up on the ground. "We have to get it back --"

"It's okay," I said again. "We can get new stuff."

"Come on, Kurt. In this state of places? We need that stuff to survive."

"We'll survive," I told him. "It'd be better for our survival if we just didn't try to go back in there again. Come on, let's go start walking."

Karofsky stood up, and I followed him to my feet. Then watching him carefully, followed as he began walking down the road.

My throat felt weak, more vulnerable to coughing. I tried to push down the distressing thought that our journey was making us weaker, that walking all this way through the ash was doing to my lungs, that soon we might suffocate from the pressure.

It was a dangerous world out here. I was beginning to wonder whether it was worth it, walking through it all. We couldn't very well swap our shoddy masks for anything better; there wasn't anything. So I just kept my eyes forward and tried not to think about it every time I coughed, as if I were choking on water.

I wasn't sick. Not that sick.

We stopped in Murraysville in the mid-morning, needing a rest. We found an old, run-down music store to shelter in, stepping in the back room to hide from the ash coming in from the broken windows.

Dave sighed as we sat together on the floor for a well-needed rest, rubbing his hands together. Since the apocalypse had come, the world had grown colder, and it was getting to us both. We slept together at night, and indeed now, because we knew we had to. And for the most part, up to now, I'd used the weather as an excuse from saying what I knew; that sleeping next to Dave was an intimate act, and not just for him. Given our history, I didn't want to believe it. But recent events forced me to face the truth.

We slept for three hours before we had to head off again into the urban wilderness. And I say that without metaphor; as the ash came down like snow around us, it truly felt like a wide, dangerous wilderness, no less by how ash blanketed the landscape. I was happy to leave.

We settled that night in Blairsville after another eight hours, after dark had fallen. After a full day out in the ash, it felt a relief to get out of it. It seemed I could find no respite in or out of town.

And so it went on for days, just the endless trudging of town to town. I had learned to pick up my speed, and keep up with Dave. Survival was making me fitter and hardier. It became our sole focus; no matter how I felt about Dave now, or how I realised I felt, it would do no good to act on in our current situation.

If he was the last guy on earth... I could no longer say that I wouldn't be with him. But I was still afraid to cross that line.

We wound up in Harrisburg after five days, and by then I had completely run out of energy to go any further.

"Let's stay here," I told him after some time inside. "Here's close enough. We're safe enough here."

"Safe enough?" repeated Dave, gawping at me. "We haven't travelled over a week to get this far. Isn't this what you wanted? To escape to New York?"

"I don't know anymore if it's worth it. Let's just stay here. We can be happy here."

"We're not safe if we stay --"

"How do you think we'll be if we move?" I retorted. "Day after day in that toxic wasteland... it's making us sick. If we stay... we can breathe here."

"And what are we going to do when we run out of food?"

"You're the expert. Aren't you always saying there's always food, if you just look for it? Rats in the floorboards?"

"How long do you think it will last? I don't know what can survive this. It's the freaking apocalypse, how do you know these animals will keep surviving?"

"Because something always does," I said. "This isn't the first super volcano that's gone off. Humans survived the last one, so we can survive this. If we run out of food, that's it. We're done for, wherever we go. It won't matter if New York falls, or it finds food for its dying population somehow. We'll all run out, if everything else dies. We haven't got a chance."

He looked at me with a guarded expression, before it deflated. "Fine, we'll stay here if you want. Whatever you want."

I smiled, but it wasn't because I got my way. I was certain that staying here was essential to our survival; we were both getting sicker and sicker. But that wasn't why I was smiling.

I was smiling, because I realised for the first time that I was in charge. I had some use to him after all. I was the brains of this operation, and he listened to whatever I said. It really made me feel special.

"What if we just break into a chemists and steal some throat lollies?" said Dave after a moment’s pause.

"I don't think you really understand what's going on here," I said. "This isn't some common flu, this is ash. Get enough ash in your lungs, and you drown in it. It isn't in the throat, it's in the lungs, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

"How can we drown in ash?" he said.

"It mixes with the water in our body to become cement," I said.

"Oh shit," he said.

Yeah. No kidding.

"I don't suppose they're still taking patients at the hospital," Dave guessed. "I mean, there's certainly still call for it. There must be heaps of people with ash in their lungs."

An image came to my mind, of mindless hoards of miners flooding to doctor's offices, to be told that they have black lungs. I wondered how much this ash would shorten our lifespan.

So we wandered through the dark wilderness to the bright lights of the hospital.

The building was still intact, and luckily for us it was still up to half power; only the foyer and the surgery rooms were lit, however, and we found ourselves roaming through ER in dim light. Many people were coughing up a lung, some didn't even have masks, but there were also a lot of other problems around us. Electric attacks, car breakdowns, genuine illnesses.

We took a seat.

When the doctor came to us, he briefly examined our symptoms (dry hacking cough for me, runny nose for Dave), but it turned out we'd simply panicked for nothing. "These short-term effects are not considered harmful for people without existing respiratory conditions. You should simply take steps to minimize their exposure to breathing ash."

"We made the decision to do that today," I explained.

"Good," said the doctor. "Well, there's really nothing more besides that I can prescribe."

I thanked him, and we left after a few hours, under his instruction. "The ash is coming down out there. Might want to wait until it lightens up." So we ended up sitting in plastic chairs in the dark, busy hospital, doing nothing more than staring ahead.

Karofsky complained the whole time.


End file.
